Genius and Insanity
by bballgirl32
Summary: "The Capitol wants an underdog. They like someone they can root for. How do you feel about turning your little infatuation into a story of doomed love?" I smile at my mentor. Sponsors will be dying to spend money on me. "...I'll do it." SEQUEL UP!
1. A Terrible Inconvenience

**Marvel/Katniss... odd, right? But with all the Kato fics spouting up everywhere, I decided that Marvel needs a little love. I got my perception of him from the tribute guide's claim that he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, and a little of it from Jack Quaid's portrayal of him in the movie- which consisted of a lot of smirks and odd facial expressions- so his personality may be a bit... different, but I hope you guys like it. **

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins. **

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"I look hot, right Breeze?"

Absurdly big green eyes look at me with a frightening solemnness, and I find my grin growing wider under my little sister's spotlight stare. I continue standing there, arms stretched out expectantly, until Brianna purses her lips and shakes her head.

"You look absolutely ridiculous," she says, her tone of voice settling somewhere between teasing and dead serious. I reach over and muss up her hair, and Brianna's jaw clenches as she leans away, complaining, "I spent _all _morning on that! What if I get picked! Now-"

"Oh, quit shitting bricks," I say, moving away from her to look at myself in the mirror. I do look ridiculous, courtesy of my mother and her gaudy fashion choices, but it _is _traditional for District One's finest to wear crazily expensive clothing on Reaping day. "You won't get picked, for one, and for another, no one will really give a shit about your hair if you do. They'll be too pissed off that a scrawny little twelve-year old is going to go into the Games that-"

I have to stop to dodge the hairbrush that's chucked at my head. It sails an inch in front of my face and crashes into my mirror, shattering most of the thin glass. Brianna doesn't blink, instead smirking at me and stomping off to the bathroom, no doubt to redo her hair.

I mutter a low curse, but ignore the damage. Mom will be pissed, but I've never been too fond of the mirror anyway. It pretty much acts as a clothes rack given that I have not yet developed a sense of self-love quite as impressive as my father's, and therefore can serve its primary purpose just as well _with _the shattered glass as it could have without it.

Somewhere, an alarm starts screeching. That would be Brianna's. She's always been anal about making sure she's on time for things. We have to go.

I sneak another quick glance at myself in the mirror, shaking my head. I'd rather be in my terribly gray Academy uniform than the uncomfortable ivory pants, ridiculously confining suit jacket in matching color, and bright blue shirt that will no doubt make countless viewers scattered throughout Panem question my sexuality, but I also have a feeling that my mother would tear my heart out if I decided to switch outfits, and therefore I resign myself to the prospect of public humiliation.

"Marvel! It's time to _go_!" Brianna calls. Rushing away from my nightmarishly _bright _reflection, I run a nervous hand through my hair and sigh. I've been trained for this. Nothing to worry about. Still, I don't _want _to go to the Games. Living outside, dealing with bugs, going without food?

District One's got more pride than it knows what to do with, my family is about as rich as we can get without being Capitol, and anyone who's seen me chuck a spear will vouch for my own personal masculinity – although that may not last long after they've seen my suit- so I have nothing to prove. No reason to fight.

Two years left, and I cannot wait until they're long behind me. I've never been a fan of uncomfortable things.

"Marv-"

I step out into our foyer before she can finish her impatient shout. Brianna gives me a nasty glare. She's got her hair up and perfectly styled again in an impressively short amount of time. Light makeup makes her big green eyes look even bigger.

I really hope she doesn't get picked. She's too pretty to die.

"Don't worry, I'm right here. We won't be late."

Brianna nods. Then, without looking at me, she reaches over and weaves her small, twelve-year-old fingers through my own. I try to walk forward, but she doesn't move. When I stop to look at her, there's an awkward moment of silence.

"I don't want to go," she whispers finally. "I don't-"

I reach over with my free hand and pinch her lips shut. No one in District 1 talks like that. Especially not any Metzgers.

"Breeze, shh. We don't say things like that, alright?"

She nods gravely, and I can feel her take a deep, shaking breath. She's so naturally small that her weakness makes her look like a little bird, like the ones I used to throw rocks at when I was younger. They'd fall slowly to the ground, tiny and fragile, and I would step on them if they were still alive.

A big, heavy boot is now very close to Brianna's head. A stroke of dreadful luck, and it'll come down completely.

Together, quietly, we make our way out the front door and down the neatly paved streets to District One's town square. Our steps are slow, and with every little bit of progress we make, Brianna's hand tightens around my own.

"You should get away from me," I warn her as we approach the line of tributes that are still waiting to check in. "All your friends will laugh if they see us together. I look like an idiot."

"That's because you're rich. Around here, I think people _expect _money to rot your brain," Brianna smirks. She's fine again, her second of worry already wiped from her mind, and, more importantly, erased from her features. I laugh loudly to encourage her a little, to show her that she has _nothing _to be scared of.

We reach the check-in tables soon after. Brianna gets pricked with a needle and her blood is stored on one of their databases. I follow. Then we're separated.

I watch a Peacekeeper drag her off, but she's like our parents more than I care to admit- too proud to share any lasting glances with me. Any and all signs of fear have been wiped clean from her face.

It takes a little effort, but I tear my eyes from my little sister and amble on over to the seventeen-year-old section. Like always, I make it a point to get as close to the stage as possible. Reverse psychology. If I'm there and looking ready to go, not trying to hide, then I won't get picked. It's worked the last five years. I trust it to hold up through six.

"Volunteering this year, Marv?" a guy from the Academy asks. I smile at him. He's bigger and stronger than me, and I can't help but think that _he _should be the one volunteering.

"Nah," I say. I don't know his name. "Too much work for too little reward, you know? I'm already living it up here. Why risk everything when you can't get anything more out of it?"

He looks at me strangely, then laughs like I'm ridiculous and goes back to his friends. I contemplate sticking my tongue out at his back, but I'm about ninety percent sure that my mother is watching me from somewhere out in the crowd. In layman's terms, she doesn't like immature behavior, and if she doesn't like something, she gets rid of it. I'm not in the mood to be disposed of, so my tongue stays in my mouth.

Within a few minutes, the mayor steps forward and begins reciting the Treaty of Treason in a low monotone that would work very nicely as a prescription sedative. My gut's a bundle of jumpy nerves, yet I find my eyes drooping as his low voice warbles its way out of the speakers.

Then he's done and Tilly Winters picks her way across the stage in heels that are probably as long as my forearms. Her balance is impressive, and she's so generally bright- quite like myself, actually- that any trace of sleepiness is replaced by the disorienting feeling that I've spent too much time looking straight at the sun.

"Welcome, welcome!" she chirps. Her voice rings with money- a high trill that tinkles with luxury and flows easily up and down in the slow, controlled tones of someone who has all the time in the world to say things that _everyone_ has to listen to, but no one really cares about.

My mother speaks in the_ exact _same way.

"I hope that you are all excited for the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games," she continues. Her green wig bobs up and down in the wind as she tells us all how happy she is to be in District One. Then her little introduction is finished, and she kicks off with her usual call of, "Ladies first!"

She balances her way to the girl's ball and reaches for a slip of paper.

The District goes silent.

Tilly smiles and unfolds the small slip.

"Glimmer Kirsch."

Ah, how fitting, that the most dangerous girl I have had the pleasure to meet has been tossed into a place where stabbing people in the back is commonplace.

There is no hesitation or pause before Glimmer strides onto the stage from her place in the crowd, looking like a walking sex-goddess as she does so. Her hair is like spun gold, hanging in bouncing curls around deceptively angelic features, and her emerald eyes survey the crowd with a challenging look, daring someone to just _try _to take her place.

I think she's slept with half the guys at the Academy. She's killed several other girls over insults and boyfriends. Strangely enough, that only adds to her appeal. From her tiny white dress to her dangerous red heels, I find myself quite taken with this girl who shines like an angel but has a soul so small that even God would need a microscope to find it.

She looks all the more attractive- quite perfect for the Games, really- because she's _not _Brianna. One year down for my little sister. Now I just have to get through, and we'll be good until the next.

Tilly coos over Glimmer with a huge smile on her face- probably because her body is going to be the talk of the Games- before realizing that there's still another tribute to pick. After having Glimmer spin once for the cameras, Tilly heads off towards the guy's ball.

I scratch at my neck a little. It's cool, and my suit is pretty light, but I still feel hot and uncomfortable.

Tilly teeters as she walks, but catches herself so imperceptibly that no one would have seen the tiny wobble of her humorously high heel unless they were watching for it. With a wide smile, she stops in front of the ball and sinks her arm into it, grasping several slips of paper tauntingly before hanging on to one unfortunate bastard's name.

My eyes don't leave that piece of paper as Tilly opens it and slowly runs her eyes over the name.

"Marvel Metzger."

Holy hell.

"Well, shit, it looks like you don't have to volunteer after all," says the guy who asked me about it earlier. I ignore him and tilt my head at Tilly in confusion.

"Did she just say _my _name?" I ask out loud. Several people laugh. I blink.

Me? _I'm_ the unfortunate bastard?

I see my face on the big screen that overlooks the square, my smile still in place, but my eyes have tightened a little like I have no idea what's going on. A few more seconds pass, and finally, it sinks in.

Tilly Winters just called _my _name. I'm going to the Hunger Games. That's so… inconvenient. I run a hand through my hair and let out a low sigh. At least my mother stuck me in this ugly-as-hell suit. Everyone from the Capitol will love it.

I take my time getting up onto the stage, not because I'm really that reluctant to get up there- really, being reluctant would just make things worse- but more due to the fact that I don't feel like making myself rush.

Glimmer begins getting impatient. I allow her to do so. Staying on her good side is widely regarded as a feat that's improbable at best and impossible at worst, and I believe making an effort to do so would take more energy than I'm willing to expend.

The crowd cheers as I finally take my place, although not quite as loudly as I have heard other years. I'm rich and tall, but not as big as most Careers, and hardly threatening in a suit that makes me look like a transgender rabbit. I think Glimmer got a better reception than me. Then again, most of the male population of District One was probably cheering more for Glimmer's non-existent dress than any actual appreciation for her value as a tribute.

Above the commotion, Tilly tells me to shake Glimmer's hand, and I obey with a smile on my face, because, hell, on the off chance that I will die, I'll do so with memories of an unrealistically hot girl in my head.

"The boy with the nice arm," Glimmer says, because everyone in District One knows and realizes that, although I am shit at most everything else, I am ridiculously amazing at throwing spears.

"The girl with the nice ass," I say in response. Then, when she looks angry, I shrug and continue, "What? It'll get you more sponsors than my arm will _ever _get me."

Glimmer purses her lips at me angrily. Tilly escorts us off the stage and to the Justice Building. I laugh as I follow, the shock wearing off and gradually being replaced by a feeling of something like acceptance. The Games have always been a possibility- an undesirable one, sure, but nothing I absolutely can't handle. I've always had an uncanny ability to make the most of disagreeable circumstances, anyhow. I find it strangely easy to treat this situation just as optimistically as others I've dealt with in the past.

Our personal visits begin a short while later. Although I had dozens of 'friends' at the Academy, the place was not exactly a breeding ground for deep relationships, and my 'eccentric' personality and fascination with sharp objects twisted together to give me a large number of distant acquaintances rather than any close friends.

In other words, I was there, I was popular, but apparently not someone to take the time to see before their imminent- or in my case, statistically likely- death.

My family does come, though. I recline back into the room's expensive leather sofa- quite similar to the one that's in our sitting room at home- and smile a little as I watch Brianna walk stiffly into the room, followed by my mother and father.

I focus on my little sister first. She is holding up well- no tears, and her face arranged into a mask of distant concern. I can tell she is upset- something terrible is raging in her eyes- but I choose to ignore it.

See, that's the thing that most people don't get about District One. Looking past what's on the outside is a waste of time. If someone isn't showing you something, it means that it's none of your damn business. If Brianna expected to be comforted, she would have come into the room with tears in her eyes.

"Come home," she says. "Please."

I nod. I will. I don't plan on dying. Of course, no one does, but I'm so much better than most anyone else that I actually have a hope of getting my sorry ass home in one piece.

"I will," I assure her. "Don't worry about that." Then I look at my parents. My dark-haired father, his eyes focused on the covered window, face pinched into a look of vague displeasure. My mother's face is different- more readable, but with less to read.

Both appear to disprove of this turn of events. There is doubt in my father's eyes. He isn't confident I can win. My mother is- I can tell that she sees this as nothing more than an inconvenient ordeal, much as I do.

"Ally yourself with the other strong tributes," Mother says. "Glimmer, including. I know her mother, and-"

"I know. I've been trained. I've watched the Games every year. Besides, I'll have a mentor. I don't need advice."

"Do you need anything else?" my mother asks.

Some emotion would be nice, but I would get slapped for suggesting something so preposterous, so instead I shrug and smile.

"Nah. I'm sure the Capitol will be happy to take care of all of my needs. Really, let me go. I'll be back in a month, and we'll have a few more bucks to add to the family bank account. Seriously, I'm good."

I am dished up three skeptical looks. I have never been a typical Career, and they all realize this fully. That, however, does not mean that I am terribly frightened. A little scared? Yeah. Uncomfortable with the notion of dying? Completely. But, the thing is, when you've been faced with the idea of death all your life, when volunteering to die is actually encouraged, going out to risk your life apparently becomes something that a person is kind desensitized towards.

"If you're sure," my mother says. "But Marvel? Please come home to us. I would be terribly vexed if I were to lose you."

I stand up and give her a quick hug, given that I don't think I've ever heard her say anything so… personal, to me over the course of my seventeen wonderful years. My father only nods at me, but I still reach out and stiffly shake his hand. Then Brianna, small and stoic as a statue, purses her lips and rigidly wraps her thin arms around my waist.

"Don't worry about a thing. I've got this," I tell her confidently.

Then the Peacekeepers come and drag my family away, and I'm left by myself because no one else is willing to visit me. Glimmer probably has a line of admirers, waiting to say their good-byes and get themselves in her good graces in case she actually returns, so I know that it'll be a while before we leave. Every second of her allotted time will be used up. I don't think I've ticked away half of mine.

I sit and wait. A clock ticks on the wall, and each second piles on top of the other in my head, adding up to a handful of minutes, and then a small chunk of an hour before a Peacekeeper enters my room and tells me that it's time to get going.

Glimmer, who I am disappointed to see hasn't been crying, is shoved up beside me, and we are both thrust into the backseat of a fancy Capitol car. As soon as the doors are closed, she turns to look at me.

"We're going to be allies, right?"

I pretend to think about it for a moment, running my eyes up and down her pretty little body as if I'm sizing her up. She tenses, so I draw out the moment a second longer before replying.

"I suppose."

Nodding, Glimmer says, "Good. You'll help with sponsors."

"How?" I ask, because although I like to believe I am greatly gifted in the attractiveness department, I have a feeling that I contrast quite badly with Glimmer's goddess-like appearance.

"Your personality. The Capitol will love a crazy-as-hell asshole who smiles all the time. That suit works with the idea, too. It makes you look ridiculous."

I shrug because I'm pretty sure the Capitol will appreciate any personality that's thrown at them as long as it's attached to a big, ruthless tribute, but I don't tell her this.

"If you say so."

"Oh? And act like you're actually _into _girls once the cameras start focusing on us. I'm trying to make myself appear desirable, and it will help a hell of a lot if you would actually _look _at me."

I blink several times, quite positive that she just called me gay.

"Hey, just because I don't drool doesn't mean I don't look," I say defensively. "Because believe me, I appreciate the view."

"So you'll do it?" Glimmer asks. She doesn't think I'll say no.

I do.

"I don't think so. See, I've got a reputation for only accepting the best. Something that's been passed around half of District One is too secondhand for my taste, and I don't want anyone back home getting the wrong impression about me. If you're willing to acquiesce to something in secret, though-"

I'm actually quite lucky that the car stops then, because I'm pretty sure that I would have had perfectly filed nails in my throat if I couldn't have scrambled out the door at that precise moment. Funnily enough, I wasn't even trying to be an asshole. I was telling the truth.

Someone of my standing and wealth seen pining after a person who is a good ways under me, at least status-wise, is frowned upon. If Glimmer were to come after me, it'd be a different story, but suggesting that to her would probably lead to a premature death that I'm not excessively interested in.

"Sorry, Glim," I say as we're prodded towards the train station, "but it's true. I'm sure you'll seduce the Capitol just fine without my help."

She puts a tight smile on her face, but says nothing. I widen my own grin and start waving, tossing out kisses, and allowing the Capitol to bask in the general sunniness that is my personality.

In District One, our training starts before we can really work with weapons. That's because our tributes rarely win the Games in the arena. Here, where appearances are everything, it's personality that counts. I have been trained to make the Capitol love me. So that's what I do.

Cameras eat up my face and other parts of Glimmer, and then we're on the train and away from the bug-like lenses.

"Well, that was interesting," I announce to the room as a whole. "Now, I think I need a nap."

No one objects, so I escort myself to a room that appears to be made up for a tribute and plop down onto the bed. I don't sleep. Instead, I take a moment to let myself get swallowed up by the quiet, away from Glimmer and cameras and prying eyes. Once the adrenaline works its way from my veins and my heart has slowed down a little, I realize something.

I'm hungry.

I'll find someone to get me food.

First, though, I have to change out of my suit.

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**I hope you liked it, and please tell me what you think! Any reviewers with an account will get a sneak peek of the next chapter, just in case that changes any minds. **


	2. Like a Chihuahua

**A/N- Remember how I promised sneak peeks?... Yeah, I kind of spaced out on that, so I'll just have to go around and send everyone who reviewed the first chapter a preview of the next chapter. Sorry. **

**But hey, I'm glad so many people liked it. I was expecting like, ten reviews at most, and here I am with sixteen, so thanks a whole bunch for all those. I'll get around to replying to more of them next chapter. Well, here's Chapter 2.**

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"I swear to God, he is the most insane _creep_-"

Glimmer stops halfway through her sentence as Tilly leads me into the sitting room. I'd missed dinner given that I went out and gorged myself with absurdly delicious food- the kind that even my family only gets on holidays and special occasions- shortly after I arrived on the train. Tilly _had_ fetched me to watch the recap of the Reapings, however- something that she apparently failed to mention to Glimmer and her hot blonde gossip buddy.

"Insane creep?" I ask, feigning hurt as I plop down onto the couch next to a brawny blond whom I assume has the honor of mentoring me. "Weren't you the one who was _begging _for my undivided love and attention just a few hours earlier?"

Glimmer makes a gagging noise.

"Screw you-"

"I bet that you'd just love that," I shoot back. "You've always had a thing for rich guys-"

"Quiet!" Tilly cries. She's looking quite flustered. Even her lime green wig isn't quite on kilter. I'm proud of myself. From what I have seen of her on television, I didn't think that she _could_ get flustered. "Please, children. The Reapings are starting soon. Show some manners."

I smirk a little- her voice _and _words are both_ identical_ to my mother's- and shrug.

"Alright then."

Glimmer glowers at me, but says nothing as the Capitol announcers end their introductory speech and the Reapings begin to flash by on screen.

First there's Glimmer, looking stunning, followed by the equally stunning- seriously, I'm sure my suit stunned a good deal of Panem- me. I'm confused and smiling and, although a _tad _bit foolish looking, entirely fearless. Not intimidating, but definitely a pretty potent sponsor-magnet.

Then comes District 2. A small girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, is called up to the stage and saunters up the stairs like she's been waiting to get up there for years. Intimidating, yes, but even she has nothing on the district's monster of a man-beast who jumps onto the stage, yanks the microphone out of the escort's hands, and introduces himself as tribute before the first guy's name is even out of her mouth.

"You called _me _insane?" I ask Glimmer, even though I can't help but swallow a little as I look at the guy. He's not as tall as me- I don't think anyway- but he has to weigh more than two hundred pounds and it's pretty clear he's got a limitlessly better disposition for this type of thing. It's in his eyes- a lust to kill, a competitive spirit that I've never quite managed to find.

There's no doubt in my mind that I can beat him- we'll be in an alliance, and I'll just take him out when he's not expecting it- but I still tick him off in my head as someone to watch out for.

The next Districts are unexceptional. A cripple from Ten makes little red flags in my head go off, and I smile. He's like a wounded animal, just waiting to be put out of his misery. He looks more like prey than anyone else I've seen so far. I think killing him would actually be really, really fun.

Eleven comes up next. I relax back into my chair because these last two Districts never give any show. I'm expecting them to be boring as hell to watch, but keep my attention on the screen anyway, anticipating a couple more pathetic little kids to kill.

The escort grabs a slip of paper, and everyone goes quiet as a girl named Rue is chosen to participate. I can hear the wind whistling on the camera, and my hands tighten just a small amount as I see a tiny little wisp of a tribute float up to the stage, walking strong and fearless, but looking so, so weak.

A little dying bird who couldn't quite keep from getting stepped on. Like my sister...

Then a boy is picked who is so unlike her that I have to laugh out loud.

"They better watch them on the train," I say. "She looks like something that he'd eat for breakfast."

"An easy kill is what she looks like," Glimmer replies without cracking a smile. "But I worry about him. We should ask him to join our group. Get him asleep and kill him right off the bat. Who knows what he'll do otherwise?"

"Do you think he'd be dumb enough to fall for it?" I ask. Glimmer has this killing thing down, despite her other, less desirable qualities. I make up my mind to listen to her for anything that has to do with betrayal or murder. It seems like she's pretty proficient at both.

"He sure looks like it," Glimmer says, just as Twelve's Reaping kicks off. Glimmer shakes her head at the screen and says, "Turn it off. I don't want to watch this shit."

"Maybe Twelve will produce a beast this year, like Eleven did," I speak up. "Wait and see."

Tilly looks to Glimmer for confirmation- I think she likes Glimmer more than she likes me, for whatever strange reason- and sets the remote back down when Glimmer shrugs her shoulders, not caring either way.

Twelve's pink-haired escort reaches into a ball and pulls out a little slip of paper.

"Primrose Everdeen!" the escort announces. My eyes don't leave the screen as the crowd parts around a small blonde girl with wide eyes. I suddenly feel inappropriately ill. Little Rue of District Eleven had presented a picture similar to my sister, but although Brianna is too strong to cry like this girl is doing, they look almost _exactly _alike.

I let out a low breath. I'll have to kill her quickly, to make sure-

"I VOLUNTEER!"

My thoughts stop abruptly. Glimmer blinks. I feel surprise flash through the room like lightning before it fades into incredulity.

"No way," Glimmer says. "It's District Twelve!"

"No shit," I respond, my eyes wide as I watch an older, still small, but strong-looking girl thrust the other girl behind her and walk stoically onto the stage, "Everyone knows it's District Twelve, although I _am_ surprised that someone actually volunteered from there."

Glimmer pretends not to hear me.

"What's your name, dear?" asks their escort.

The girl swallows and looks out at the camera, and I get the impression that she's trying to lock eyes with every person in Panem, to hold them accountable for something that I don't really understand.

"Katniss Everdeen."

Everdeen.

The air gets sucked out of the room. A second later, Katniss Everdeen confirms that the little girl was her sister, and then proceeds to silently _dare_ District Twelve to cheer, to say that being forced into her position is right.

District Twelve is silent. So is the rest of Panem.

My eyes don't leave Katniss Everdeen's face. It's full of hate and hardship and I feel like she's holding tightly to a secret that very few other people know, a secret that I want to figure out, but that's too far away for me to reach.

Out loud, I say, "Do you think she knows something we don't?"

Tilly laughs and says, "Of course not, Sweetie. She's only keeping her little doll of a sister from stealing her glory. Don't be foolish."

"But… her sister would have _died_," I answer slowly. "That doesn't make any sense." I run a hand through my hair. "I wouldn't have volunteered for my sister."

It's quiet for a moment longer, and then Glimmer snorts.

"Unless you've forgotten, you _couldn't _have. Or was your name in the wrong ball, Marv?"

"I'll let you decide for yourself if you pay me a visit later tonight," I joke uneasily. "Just make sure to do it quietly. Mother doesn't like it when I associate with those who are beneath me."

Glimmer gets to her feet, gives me a dirty look, and stomps off.

I watch her go, but my mind isn't off Katniss Everdeen yet. She's from Twelve- any rat from out there can't think they have a chance of winning- so Tilly wasn't right about the glory thing. That means she must have decided to swap caskets with her sister- die for the other girl- but _no one _does that. It's not right.

"You need to watch your mouth," says the blond man beside me, tearing me out of my thoughts. "Glimmer would be a bad enemy to have."

"I'm just messing," I shrug. I get to my feet, feeling uncomfortable as I watch his bright eyes look me up and down, assessing what feels like every square inch of my body. "Now… I should get some rest, unless you want to continue molesting me with your eyes-"

"Stay here," he says. He's big enough that I plant my butt back into the cushion without a second of hesitation. "We have things to talk about. I'm Gloss, your mentor, in case you didn't know." Gloss looks at Tilly and the other woman. "Go. I want to have a talk with my tribute."

They're gone as soon as he says the word, and when the door is closed, his eyes are back on me.

"You're skinny. Not very fit at all. You _did _go to the Academy, right?"

"For twelve years," I reply easily. I'm not offended- my father got on me about my lack of weight all the time.

"And you struggled academically?"

Now _this _offends me.

"I was one of the top students-" I begin, but Gloss cuts me off with a condescending smile.

"Ah, so it's just your common sense. You _might _be able to win. You're attractive enough, and I have a feeling that the people of the Capitol will find you _extremely _likable. It'll take some work, but I may be able to make you into… something, at least. Tell me, can you use any weapons? I mean, at all?"

I want to say something about the way he's talking to me, like I'm completely missing all of the slights he's slipping between his words, but instead I cling tightly onto the fact that he thinks I actually have a chance of winning.

"I can throw spears," I say. "A little archery, some pretty good knife work-"

"Sword-fighting?" Gloss interrupts.

I grimace.

"No."

Gloss nods like he already assumed that.

"You're not built for it- too long. I can see you as a spear-thrower, though. What about hand to hand combat?"

"I never tried it. It always looked uncomfortable."

I don't miss the way that Gloss looks at me as if I'm insane when I say this.

"Alright, I'm done with you for now. Just… go." I stand up again, but Gloss stops me with a, "And Marvel?"

"Yeah?"

"I doubt that there's any chance of this happening, but if you ever… have the urge to say something intelligent, fight it back. I wouldn't want anyone overestimating you."

"But if the Careers think that I'm useless-"

"They won't if you don't go out of your way to make them mad. Now go. I still need to figure out what in the hell I'm going to do with you."

He thinks I'm an idiot. A serious, honest-to-god idiot. My head rings with his words and I mumble under my breath as I walk back to my room. I like saying what I think or see, and, if I find that boring, I don't hesitate to add a little entertainment value to my words. I'm not _really _stupid.

I'm so caught up thinking about Gloss that I don't see Glimmer until I plow right into her. I reflexively reach out to catch her when she bounces back, then smirk at the expression on her face and pull her closer.

"Don't. Say. Anything," she hisses, tearing away from me and storming past me. Acting like a bitch is not out of character for her. Looking so… unrestrained is. If I were a caring person, I would probably ask what was wrong, but I'm not and she obviously doesn't want me to know, so I just watch as she stomps down the hallway and tears open one of the doors, slamming it behind her.

...

I know I like my prep team when they complement my Reaping suit as soon as they lay eyes on me. Breakfast had been a chorus of bickering with an unusually tetchy Glimmer and trying not to get pissed at Gloss, so their little pick-me-up is much appreciated.

"It _was _pretty awesome, wasn't it?" I ask with a smile. None of them can detect my sarcasm, but they all agree emphatically anyway. I think all of their alterations must have damaged their cereberal function.

"Such a great color combination," a silver-skinned woman Viola agrees. Then, after looking me over for a moment, she continues, "Now, please strip down so we can begin. I don't believe that we will have much to do with you- you really are in great condition-"

I give her an incredulous look as she rambles on. Alright, Glimmer's probably used to people asking her to get naked in the same manner they'd ask you if you wanted to go for a walk, but I, for one, have to hesitate for a moment as I contemplate whether or not I really want to take off all my clothes in front of these creatures that look suspiciously like extraterrestiral beings.

Then I figure that I'll either strip down myself, or they'll do it for me, so I shrug and pull off my shirt, making a show of it for the entertainment of my ever-appreciative audience.

Viola and Aemilia both laugh like I'm the cutest thing ever, but Hermia only shakes her head and says that they have limited time and I need to hurry up.

"Oh, let him be," Aemilia says, creeping closer as I finish with the removal of my clothes. She brushes a hand across my chest and says, "This one is so… charming."

I try not to shrink away- she kind of looks like a parrot, and I really don't like the idea of an exotic bird coming onto me- and keep smiling as I'm then subjected to several hours of numerous crimes against my person. These include the scrubbing down of my entire body with something like sandpaper, the waxing of my chest hair, a good amount of eyebrow plucking, putting _acid _on my face to keep me from growing facial hair, _and _having _glitter _sprinkled lightly onto my cheeks.

Then my stylist, a tall, blue-skinned man by the name of Ventidius, enters and tells me to close my eyes.

When I am completely dressed ten minutes later, Ventidius grabs my arm and jerks me along behind him, rambling on about how wonderful I am going to look. When I am apparently in front of a mirror, he orders me to open my eyes.

I do so and blink at my reflection.

I am… pink.

A dark pink crushed velvet top, with bright jewels and glitter encrusted all over it, and, on top, a hot pink… coat-thing made out of thick faux fur or feathers or some other fuzzy-looking animal part.

I try to look on the bright side. At least now everyone will forget about my suit.

"Don't you think that it's a little… feminine?" I ask Ventidius, trying and failing to tear my eyes away from the mess of fur and jewels. I'm not sure Glimmer would be able to pull off this... _thing. _

"Oh, not at all," Ventidius laughs. "Pink is one of the Capitol's latest trends, and the jewels reflect your district so nicely, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes, of course," I say. I don't agree at all- I think I look like the offspring of a unicorn and a flamingo- but if the guy thinks that this looks good, well, I'm not sure I'd want to see what he'd put me in if I got on his bad side. "It's wonderful. Very soft, too. I'm sure everyone will love it."

"There's no doubt in my mind," says Ventidius.

Shortly after, we head down to the bottom floor of the Remake Center. Ventidius chats all the way, and I keep up an easy monologue with the guy. He's rather interesting, actually, in the way that he can completely overlook any trace of sarcasm in my tone without even batting an eye. He seems even more adept at the art than my prep team.

By the time that we're at the stables, most of the other tributes have already congregated, and pretty much all of them stare at me when I walk into the room.

"Wow, you were right, Venny," I announce, smiling broadly at my fellow tributes. "Look at how jealous they are."

My eyes rake over my future targets for the first time, taking in every single one of them. Little Rue is smaller than I thought- even tinier than Brianna-, but her enormous eyes dance like my little sister's never had. They focus on me for just a moment before dropping to the ground. Cato is there. He smirks when our eyes meet. When I shoot him a smile and a raised eyebrow like I've got no idea what he thinks is so funny, his smirk turns into a glower and he crosses his arms over his chest, flexing biceps bigger than my head.

"Now there's a physical specimen," Ventidius says. I make an indignant noise, but he's unrepentant.

A second later, Glimmer is stomping over to me in a _lot _of pink, complete with a peacock headdress and a shit ton of glitter. I still think she's hot. Bitchy and low-class, but hot.

"You look like a freak," she says to me immediately, grabbing my arm and dragging me away from my stylist."I can't believe you let them do this to you. Everyone will think you're a joke now."

"Uh, Glimmer?" I ask. I think of the way my prep team complimented my suit and fawned over me whenever I did anything ridiculous. The Capitol will love it. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Of course it's not!" she replies. "You're going to make us look bad."

"It looks like you've got a bird carcass on your head," I remind her. "We both look… a little exotic, but the crowd will love it. Come on, now, we're almost up. Smile. Be cheerful. Show off your wonderful assets."

A manicured hand pinches into my arm as Glimmer leans forward and hisses, "I will _kill _you if you ruin this for me."

"If you want a spear through your gut, go ahead."

She laughs.

"I wasn't planning on waiting for the arena, Marv."

Then Ventidius and Glimmer's stylist come running up, freaking about why we're not on the chariot yet and yelling us into our places. I'm just jumping up onto the silver, jewel-encrusted surface of the chariot when someone gives a signal and the horses start moving.

The second we're out in the streets of the Capitol, I am hit with a wall of sound. I think everyone in the city is there, screaming and yelling and taking immense joy in my obviously intimidating presence. I raise a velvety arm to the sky, gesturing for more noise, then let my grin widen as the crowd responds with even more shouting.

Glimmer is impassive and cool, smiling flirtatiously and looking around with eyes full of seductive secrets, but I do the opposite, beaming openly and letting the rush of adrenaline that the crowd gives me show on my face. I move as much as I can without falling off the chariot, blowing kisses and waving and doing everything in my power to make the noise get louder.

Through the first eleven districts, they love me- well, and Glimmer, but obviously mostly me. Cato is intimidating and brutal, glaring instead of waving, and no one else comes close to either of us. Then District Twelve rolls out.

Katniss Everdeen hadn't been there yet when I'd gone down into the stables, not that I noticed, but now there's no way I could miss her. Her face is immediately projected onto the big screen, filled with flickering shadows and millions of impossible to interpret emotions shimmering in her eyes. She's wearing fire like a cape, and her thick, dark hair is twisted into an elaborate braid behind her head.

"Holy shit," I say loudly- I hope some cameras will pick it up because I know the Capitol will find it hilarious- "She's _hot." _

Glimmer elbows me in the ribs, but I'm proud of myself for the pun, so I smile bigger, trying to keep attention on me even though I have no doubt that everyone is still looking at Katniss Everdeen.

She'd made an impression on me with the sister thing, but this is different. Now I don't just notice her; she's seared into the backs of my eyelids. Fierce and powerful and so much more than an easy kill.

For the first time, I realize that she might actually be dangerous. I can feel potential sponsors falling away from me and drifting over to her, as entranced and mesmerized by her unearthly appearance as I am.

Glimmer is erotic to the point of indecency. Katniss Everdeen, on the other hand, is stunning. Beautiful. My eyes barely skim her body before going straight up to her face. Shadows make innocent features frightening and silver eyes scan the Capitol citizens warily, as if she worries they might attack her. The determination in the set of her jaw says that she thinks she could actually manage to fight them off it they did.

Brianna had a little Chihuahua once- it bit everyone except for her, not even stopping to see if they were friendly or not- and Katniss Everdeen appears to me to be very much like that Chihuahua; a cute little dog with trust issues and a deceptively violent nature.

I shake my head a little. Breeze's Chihuahua died after I accidentally tripped over it one day when I was late for training and somehow wound up crushing the thing's neck.

It's tragic, having to kill someone who spits out so much _life_, but it's also the Hunger Games, and I really don't plan on going home in a casket. I'm not saying I'll kill Katniss Everdeen- I actually hope I don't have to- but she will end up dying, just like Brianna's little dog.

Vaguely, I hope that Katniss Everdeen doesn't die as pathetically as the Chihuahua did. There's something about her that's too _big _for that. I hope she gets a good death.


	3. Freezing and Cracking

The Training Center is freaking heaven. I thought my family was rich, I seriously did, but even my father has absolutely _nothing _on the Capitol. Our floor has everything from diamond chandeliers, to wall-sized television screens, to showers that jet out lemon-scented soap.

I spend the first half hour after the tribute parade standing in the shower- thankfully rid of the pink feathered mess that I had been shoved into- and experimenting with the buttons. Different smelling foams and soaps shoot out from random places in more abundant quantities that I really know what to do with.

For the first time, I am thankful that I got Reaped. There is no way I'm not going to get one of these showers installed at my place in Victor's Village after I get home.

"Marvel!" Tilly shouts, knocking on my bedroom door. I can barely hear her over the sound of my shower- I've got it on a rain-forest setting, where the water is falling in a steamy downpour- and so try to ignore her. It doesn't work. "Marvel! _MARVEL!" _

"Yeah?" I finally shout back.

"The food is ready!"

I mock her under my breath, but do wash away the last of the rice-infused exfoliating scrub that I had been trying out. Once all traces of the wonderful-smelling goop are effectively rinsed off of my person, I hop out of the shower, taking immense joy in the fact that there's another button that turns on an automatic drier. Soon I'm completely moisture-free, and my hair is soft and smooth. Taking my sweet time, I amble into my room and toss on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before walking out to dinner.

Ventidius, Glimmer's stylist, Tilly, and both mentors are already halfway through their meal.

Glimmer is suspiciously absent.

"Where's Glimmer at?" I ask. After a short hesitation, I sit myself between Tilly and Ventidius. Immediately, Ventidius leans over and sniffs at my shoulder, shaking his head and muttering that lemon is out of season. I shove him away disgustedly and move my chair over a little, and the other non-Capitol people at the table stare at him. There's an awkward moment before I repeat, "Glimmer?"

"Oh," says Gloss, clearing his throat. He shrugs and evasively says, "She's out."

She's out. I don't know what this means and, knowing Glimmer, I'm pretty sure that I don't want to find out. I ditch the subject and begin shoveling food into my mouth, trying to hurry up and eat so Gloss doesn't make some smartass comment about me making them wait.

Tilly stands and herds us all into a sitting room once everyone is finished eating. This time I take care to get as far away from Ventidius as possible and take a seat next to Tilly. She's not blue and hasn't tried to sniff me so far, so I take it that it's relatively safe to enjoy the recap of the tribute parade without worrying about any nasal molestation from her.

Of course, Glimmer and I ride out first, looking spectacularly pink. From a viewer's perspective, I realize that I'm good-looking enough to almost kind of pull off the costume, although the feathery ensemble still leaves much to be desired.

Thankfully, even the terrible costumes can't keep the announcers from having millions of good things to say about us. At one point, we are even declared more 'viewer friendly' than the brutal District Two 'favorites'.

I watch impatiently as the rest of the chariots filter by, waiting for one in particular. Finally, Katniss Everdeen is on screen, and I find myself as taken with her as I was earlier. Now, without having to worry about staying on my chariot or making an impression, I can look closely enough to see little things, like that her eyes are a really strange silver color, or that her and her District partner are holding hands, something that I find myself rather annoyed at for no reason in particular.

Then the announcers are talking about how impressive they were, and one of them comments, "Even other tributes were shocked at District Twelve's fiery debut."

Suddenly I'm back on screen, smirking at Glimmer and saying, "Holy shit. She's _hot_."

Gloss's eyes are suddenly burning into the side of my head. Tilly shrieks a little, and Cashmere, Gloss's hot mentor sister, begins laughing.

On the television, Caesar Flickerman gets into an intense discussion with his cohost as to whether this was a joke on my part or whether I may truthfully be interested in thee enticing Katniss Everdeen.

The show is done soon after, and the sound is sucked right out of the room. I cough awkwardly and get to my feet. I can see that Gloss had a million ideas of how to portray me to the general populace, none of which included Katniss Everdeen, and I have no interest in hearing what he has to say about my comment.

He told me not to say anything 'intelligent'. From what I can tell, figuring that a girl wearing a cape made out of fire is 'hot' doesn't take very much brainpower, so I never disobeyed any of his orders. I can also tell, by the look on his face, that he doesn't see things _quite _like I do.

"It's late," I say slowly. "I'm going to bed."

Then I leave.

At first I contemplate going to sleep, but I'm not really tired.

I stay in my room for a long time, messing with a remote that brings up different pictures on the walls, and then ordering random food that I've never heard of from a little mouthpiece on the wall. I eat for a while, but eventually get bored and wander out of my room and back into the main part of the floor.

Everything is dark and it's pretty clear that everyone else has gone to sleep. Slowly I begin to amble through the halls, looking interestedly at the portraits that watch me pass, eventually stopping to peek out a window, staring in wonder at the lights of the Capitol below. People are _everywhere, _parading around the streets in their odd clothing and funky hair. I half wish I was down there with them. It's twice as exciting as rotting away up here.

Then elevator doors whoosh open and I almost jump out of my skin. I instinctively look for a weapon- back at the Academy, we had random drills like this occasionally- and wind up grabbing a good-sized fire poker.

I'm just about to swing it when Glimmer enters the hallway I'm skulking in, shimmering moonlight streaming through the window and turning her blonde hair to gold. Her previously perfect makeup is smeared and ruined. Her feather cape and headdress have disappeared, and now all she's got on is the small jewel-encrusted dress that she'd been wearing underneath.

"Who were you screwing?" I blurt. I don't realize how much of an asshole I sound like until the words are out of my mouth. Strangely enough, I don't feel guilty in the least.

"_What?" _

I shrug, figuring that I shouldn't say she looks like what I'd imagine a prostitute would after coming home from a long night.

"Nothing, just…" I trail off, staring at Glimmer standing in the moonlight and looking like a ghost with pale skin and hell raging in her eyes. "Forget it."

Glimmer's problems aren't mine, and if she's bedding some rich Capitol freaks for sponsors or seducing Gamemakers for tips, then it's her fault that she looks like shit.

I hear Glimmer turn on a pointed heel and start walking away in a fractured, uneven staccato. She's so upset that she can't even walk straight. My first instinct is to let her go. My second is to say something about how I'll even put her out of her misery as soon as we get into the arena. I figure the first is kind of low and the second will probably get me a knife in the back, so in the dark, with no one watching, I decide to grow half a heart.

"Are you okay?" I ask. My voice is soft, but it thunders so loudly that I'm surprised it doesn't wake up the entire world. I can still hear the people of the Capitol partying outside. Gloss and Cashmere don't wake up. Hell has apparently not frozen over.

Glimmer's heels stop clicking, and I get the courage to turn around. She's standing there, her shoulders rigid, hands clenched into tight fists, her back still turned towards me.

"I'm not stupid enough to fall for any of your tricks," she hisses. "Go to bed."

"Say it's not a trick and I'm just being nice?" I ask. "What's your answer then?"

Glimmer turns around and her face is cracking. I blink in surprise.

Everyone knew Glimmer in District 1- the girl who slept around with rich guys because she liked to pretend she was rich, too. She was considered a murderer and a whore and every single one of her friends hated her so much that they'd verbally slaughter her whenever she wasn't around to hear them.

Rumors flew about her, but never once did anyone mention that it was possible for her to actually _feel _something, that her actions messed her up, just like they did everyone else she touched.

"I would tell you to go to hell," Glimmer hisses. Then she stomps away.

I look after her and shrug. There's nothing else I _can _do.

…

Training is the next morning. I get up nice and early, itching to toss a spear again.

Glimmer is eating when I amble into the dining room, and I grab a roll before plopping down in the seat next to her. She glares at me when I do, apparently forgetting that I was actually being a _good _person last night. Apparently that's what a person gets for being nice.

"I heard your comment on the District Twelve rat made the recap last night," Glimmer mentions icily. Her face isn't cracking anymore and she looks as cold and beautiful as always.

"Jealous?" I ask, forgetting about last night just like she apparently has. Glimmer doesn't respond. "I'll take that as a yes," I say, answering my own question. Smiling, I continue, "You don't have to be, you know. I still think you're better looking."

Glimmer doesn't say anything. I shrug and start shoveling down my food. Glimmer not talking isn't anything to complain about- in fact, it's rather nice. I manage to finish my breakfast in peace.

As soon as I set my fork down, Tilly stands and begins shuffling Glimmer and me down to the Training Room. It's only one floor, but Tilly heads straight to the elevator like the idea of taking the stairs had never even entered her mind. I follow her without comment- I've learned from my mother that it's usually best to just let some people do what they want.

We're the first tributes in the Training Room besides District Two, and as soon as they catch sight of us, the monster boy and his little demon girl come sauntering over, their eyes looking us up and down in an attempt to place whether we'll be useful as allies or easy kills as enemies. The boy, like I guessed, _is _shorter than me, but only by an inch or two. His muscles are bigger than I had expected.

There's a short period of silence, and then the guy says, "Allies?"

Glimmer doesn't give me a chance to answer before she saccharinely replies, "Of course. I'm Glimmer, and this-", her face scrunches in distaste as she gestures towards me, "-is Marvel."

"Cato," the big guy says, holding out a hand. I shake it and he makes a near-successful attempt to shatter each and every one of my wonderfully proportioned fingers. He's a lot gentler with Glimmer. Of course, he greets her chest rather than her face, so I can only imagine why.

When Cato is finished, the girl steps forward and smirks sweetly.

"Clove," she says, not bothering to shake hands. She apparently knows formalities don't mean shit when we're all going to kill each other eventually.

Other tributes begin filtering in, and even though Glimmer starts chatting it up with the two other Careers, I am not really interested in anything they have to say. Instead, I keep my eyes on the incoming competition. Rue, the little girl from Eleven walks in and looks at me with big possum-eyes until her district partner drags her off.

I can almost feel her watching me, even after she's gone. She's got that spotlight gaze down. Big eyes that sweep over my face and miss _nothing. _I blink at how similar it is to my sister's, and this weird hollow feeling throbs in my chest.

I think I'm _missing _Brianna. It's a strange feeling. I've always had everything I wanted- I've never had any need to miss anyone or anything. I look at the little girl again and decide that I don't like it at all.

Before I'm given time to contemplate my startlingly sentimental emotions, a tall, athletic woman calls the tributes to the center of the room. The Careers move in one intimidating pack and look big and tough as she briefly goes over the rules with us. Then, once everyone is dismissed, Cato runs off to mess with swords, and Clove and Glimmer dance off in the direction of the maces, smiling like they can't _wait _to swing them through various tributes while skipping in flowery meadows.

I would be vaguely creeped out at their enthusiasm if I didn't do the exact same thing in my hurry to get over to the spear-throwing station. When I finally approach the neat rows of spears, I can't help but let my smile grow with my eagerness to throw. My hands are nearly shaking as I run them over the vast collection of impressively dangerous, wonderfully sharp weapons.

After a moment, I select a lighter, relatively short spear that's good for small distances and station myself behind the closest line. A few warm-up throws later- all bull's-eyes- I go for a bigger spear and move back, and back, and back. When I'm finally at thirty feet, I feel the eyes on me, taking in exactly what I can do. My mouth is curved into a wide smile as I hit target after target, imagining them as tributes dropping dead all in a neat row, forming a tidy little path to facilitate my return to District One.

I want to keep throwing all day- it wouldn't be the first time- but soon I realize that I have to expand my horizons in order to give myself the best chance of winning the Games. Regretfully, I replace my spear and head over to the knife-throwing station.

There, little Rue is watching on as Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark learn about the exciting art of flicking sharp objects.

I contemplate leaving, but eventually I decide to sneak up behind them. For whatever reason, I have the funny urge to interact with the Girl on Fire.

Katniss notices me creeping towards Peeta and opens her mouth to say something, but I playfully snatch the knife from the Baker Boy's hand before he even notices that I'm there.

"The Fire District," I say, nodding to them respectfully. Then I look at Peeta and smile. "If you want to keep looking intimidating, I'd make sure to hold on to your weapon a little more tightly. Let your guard down in the arena, and little Clove will take any knife you've got." I nod over to where she's standing in the other half of the station, whipping knives into targets at an unrealistic speed; she must've gotten bored with her mace. "She likes knives. _A lot_. I'd even say that she's obsessed with them to the point of objectophilia."

The two tributes of District Twelve look at me like I've lost my mind, and I vaguely wonder if they've ever learned how to speak. Being from such an outlandish district, I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't gotten that far yet.

Then Peeta says, "_What_?"

I shrug, spinning his knife in my hand as I speak.

"It means she _loves _them. It's a District Two thing." I don't know what Cato's good at, so I glance around, nodding to myself when I see him swinging a sword like it's a magic wand. "See Cato over there? It's swords with him. That's why they can handle weapons like that; they develop a _connection_ with them."

Rue giggles from behind us- it's quiet, but I can still manage to pick up on the surprisingly sweet sound- but I think that the couple from District Twelve is under the belief that I am either excessively strange or excessively stupid. I'm not sure they realize I'm not serious.

"I am o-ver-ex-a-gger-at-ing," I drawl out slowly. I stop spinning the knife and move a little closer to Katniss Everdeen. Her size surprises me; I'd expected some tall, goddess-like figure after how much power she showed last night. In reality, she's tiny and relatively innocent-looking. Cold as an iceberg, but innocent. "Trying to make small talk? Conversation? You guys do stuff like that in Twelve, right?"

Peeta laughs a little, and I'm quite relieved that I haven't wasted my precious time in an attempt to make conversation with a pair of invalids.

"Yeah, we do. Just… not like that."

"Not many people do," I respond. I can see that both of them are still pretty uncomfortable, and I do need to train. For some reason, though, I'm itching to get some kind of response out of Katniss Everdeen. Maybe so that I can get some hint as to what her secret is- the one that's in her actions and her eyes. The one that made the world go silent when she volunteered.

So I throw Peeta's knife- which hits the target in the general area of a person's innards- and look at the Girl on Fire.

"Did you watch the replays last night?"

Katniss narrows her eyes at me. The resemblance to Brianna's Chihuahua makes my smile widen.

"Enough of them to hear you make an idiot of yourself," she replies coolly. It's the first time I've ever heard her speak. Her voice is smooth and even, but not naturally. It's more like all the emotion has been purposely chiseled away from it, as if she's spent her entire life trying to get her voice to be as cold and distant as it is.

"An idiot?" I ask, smirking at her. "I thought it was pretty good, if I do say so myself. The Capitol loved it."

Katniss fixes me with a hard look. I get the feeling that this only makes my words seem even worse in her eyes.

Too bad, too sad. I don't really give a crap that Katniss is mad.

"Go away. I don't have the patience for whatever game you're trying to play."

"Who said anything about a game, Fire Girl?" I ask. When she moves to lash out, I back away with my hands raised innocently in the air. "Alright, I'm going, I'm going. It's not my fault the words slipped out. Blame the announcers for listening in and bringing them up."

Then I move off towards the archery station, where the wonderfully flattering instructor informs me that I have the perfect build for an archer. I shoot a couple times, nicking the target most every time and only completely missing once. In a cute little Capitol accent, I'm informed that I am, "Not bad, but am obviously unpracticed."

I shrug. It's good enough.

My next destination is the knot-tying station. I sneak in a quick fifteen minute nap before I'm kicked out by the trainer and told to go somewhere else. Since Katniss and Peeta left the knife station soon after our scintillating conversation, I decide to head back in that direction.

Unfortunately, I'm stopped by the sight of little Rue still hovering around my destination. Cato and Glimmer are there, too, and I watch curiously as Cato straddles Glimmer in a very involved technique demonstration. Poor Rue is forced to witness something that has the makings to become a porn flick with a little extra time, but before I can open my mouth and tell her to run while she still can, she begins getting _closer _to Cato.

For a second I'm wondering if she's actually going to ask to participate in the rather disturbing love fest, but then I notice that Cato and Glimmer have no idea she's there. I'm too far away to know for sure, but I'm guessing that Rue is moving insanely quietly- trying not to be noticed. My lips stretch into a wide smile as I see her creep up until she's only a foot or so behind Cato, grab the knife he had tucked into his belt, and dart off, scurrying up a tall piece of climbing equipment before lifting herself into the climbing ropes that are stretched across the ceiling.

I clear my throat.

"Cato, darling!" I call loudly. Every tribute turns to look at me, including Cato. His eyes narrow, and I wonder if he's pissed off because I interrupted his 'moment' with Glimmer, or if his annoyance has more to do with my term of endearment.

I'd go with the first one. I'm so studly that even Cato is no doubt thrilled that I'd address him with such familiarity.

"Yes, Marvel?" Cato hisses. Without batting an eye, I nod towards a skinny, dark-haired boy who's standing a yard or so away from him.

"That kid stole your knife."

My eyes don't leave the unofficial but obvious leader of the Career pack as he pats his backside in search of the blade he had been stashing in his belt. The second that he realizes it's not there, he slowly turns to face the boy- I think the guy from Seven- as blood creeps to his head and effectively turns his face the color of juicy red tomato.

"Where is it?" he growls. The boy obviously has no idea what Cato is talking about, and he tells him this in a nervous, s-s-stuttery voice that is so guilty that I'd even figure he stole it if I hadn't seen Rue take the thing myself.

"I d-don't h-have your k-k-knife," the boy pleads.

Cato stomps over to him and grabs the kid's neck. I smile amusedly as I watch him pick the boy up and give him a good shake, the boy's face growing whiter as Cato's shifts from red to purple.

"If you do not give me my knife _right now_, I will _cut _your hands off and shove them up your _scrawny fucking backside_. Is that clear?"

The boy is crying now, struggling like a little rabbit caught in a trap and whimpering that he has no idea where the knife is. The Peacekeepers finally seem to notice that Cato is breaking a relatively important rule and rush over, waving their pointy sticks and telling him to 'save it for the arena'. Cato spits in the boy's face and stomps off.

A knife drops to my feet, and I look up to see Rue right above me, smiling mischievously.

I bend over and pick it up.

Loudly, I shout, "Hey, Cato! Turns out that boy didn't have your knife after all." I wave it so that he can see. "It's right here."

Cato moves to lunge for me, but Clove rushes over and grabs onto his arm, murmuring soothing words that no doubt involve me and a painful death the moment my usefulness is up in the arena. I'm not too threatened- I plan on killing Cato long before he sees me as useless- and instead smile at him and toss the knife easily in his direction, ignoring the death glare that my wonderfully friendly ally sends me.

When I'm at the spear-throwing station again an hour or so later- I just couldn't stay away from my babies- I find that Rue has switched from shadowing Katniss and Peeta to following me around. I nod in her direction, not trusting myself to speak to her.

Brianna never would have pulled what Rue did- she's too serious- but the guts it took, the gleam in her eyes as she took in Cato's reaction- that was all just like my little sister. I don't want to find any more similarities. That might make me regret Rue's death, and regretting the death of such a simple, obviously doomed tribute is not an option.

I grimace and whip my spear a little harder than usual. Although the ladies of Panem would no doubt appreciate my soft side, even having to think about this makes me sick. It's burdensome that _now _is the time that I have decided to become sentimental.

"You're good at that," Rue speaks up, apparently not noticing my attempt to ignore her. I pick up another spear.

"That's an understatement."

I throw it again. Further. It sails thirty five feet or so before plunging right into its target. I imagine that it sinks into the smooth skin along Clove's pretty little neck.

"You didn't help Cato," she says.

I toss another spear. This one hits Cato right between the eyes. All of my wonderful allies dropping into tiny dead little heaps because they underestimated me.

"You're not afraid of me," I say to Rue. I still don't look at her. No attachment. No regret. She will die. Maybe I will even kill her.

I think of one of the birds I used to kill, remember how it felt to snap their bones under my feet. Rue would probably be even easier to take down. I could grab her and break her tiny little neck with my bare hands.

When I nail the dummy with my next spear, the force of the hit knocks the whole thing over.

"Oh, I am," Rue says. "But not like with the others. You're different."

"How?" I ask.

"You helped me trick Cato," explains Rue. "The other Careers wouldn't have done that. They wouldn't be talking to me either."

"I don't like Cato," I tell her evenly. "And the others would be speaking to you. Just not nearly as politely. Why are you here, anyway? I know I'm attractive, but you're a little young for my taste, so-"

Rue shakes her head at me and says, "You didn't tell on me, so I decided I should come thank you. In District Eleven, if someone helps someone else, then they owe them something. And, well… I don't want to owe you."

I lower the spear that I had been holding, and, against my will, slowly turn to face this strange little girl.

Suddenly I'm not looking at a dark-skinned, brown-eyed copy of my sister, but rather a little angel of a girl with shining eyes and a heart that's practically leaking out her ears.

"You're sweet, Rue," I say, imagining my next target as a little frizzy-haired, dark-skinned tribute. The spear goes right into the dummy's gut. I can very clearly see little Rue curling around the shaft, her arms splaying out like she's greeting death with a sloppy hug. If I try really hard, I can almost pretend to enjoy it. "I rather like you."

Rue sees through my words and shakes her head.

"That doesn't mean too much with the Games coming up."

"No," I say, "it doesn't."

Then she walks away. I notice Katniss Everdeen looking at me strangely. There's a righteous, protect-the-weak aura that surrounds her, and I assume that she saw scary Marvel chatting it up with tiny Rue and guessed that I was threatening to bite out her intestines or something.

I laugh. I _wish _I had done that. It would have been infinitely more appropriate than whatever _that _little talk was.

Seriously? Who bothers paying back debts anyway? Life sucks and shit's not fair. There are always going to be people like me and people who aren't like me, and no amount of owing or repaying will change that.

Being _fair _only makes life difficult.

I pick up the last spear in the rack and give it a good toss.

A perfect hit. Again.

* * *

**A/N- So, last chapter I get a review asking if I'm going to make this story entirely from Marvel's POV, or if I'll switch back and forth between him and Katniss. What I've got written so far is all Marvel, but just for curiosity's sake, who would like to see a few chapters of Katniss's thoughts? **

**_And_, while you're telling me whether or not you'd like to get Katniss's take on things, I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter. I know there wasn't much to work with Marvel/Katniss wise, but don't worry. They'll have an _actual _conversation next chapter. **

**Anyways, you guys have been great with the reviews so far and I hope you keep 'em up. I don't have much of next chapter written yet so there won't be any previews, but I should update by Friday night anyway, so I hope it doesn't matter too much. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	4. Doomed Love

I go to the hammock-making station right away the next morning and fling myself onto a comfortable-looking example that they've got hanging from a couple metal poles. I'm sure that there are other things I _should _be doing, but I don't feel like bothering with any of them.

Glimmer woke me up when she came in late again last night and I couldn't get back to sleep. Now I need a nap.

I close my eyes and begin drifting off, but the sound of footsteps echoing off the metal floors keeps me from falling all the way asleep. I wait for the person to pass and leave me in peace, but then whoever it is stops.

Rue's voice says, "Should you really be sleeping _now_?"

Of course. The annoying little chit who is apparently not frightened of me. Or at least not frightened enough.

"Don't see why it's your business," I mumble tiredly, turning around so that I'm not facing her anymore. "Go away."

Brianna would have left. Rue doesn't. I can feel her still staring at me, probably wondering what kind of idiot sleeps in the middle of Hunger Games training.

"Why're you so tired?" Rue finally asks. I feel her sit down next to me, leaning her tiny little back up against mine. _What are you doing? _I want to ask. I'm going to kill her in three days, and she's snuggling up to me like I'm her teddy bear or something. It makes no freaking sense.

"My district partner's a whore," I mumble. I don't realize that that may not be the most appropriate thing to say to a twelve-year-old until after the words are out of my mouth. Brianna would have turned her nose up in disgust and called me unseemly or some other snooty word my mother taught her.

Rue doesn't. I can feel her shrug and then she doesn't say anything, but I get the impression that she likes sitting here, right beside a guy who might kill her in three days. I close my eyes again because I'm just too good of a guy to kick away an adoring fan, and pretty soon I'm half drifting off to sleep with little Rue laying there right behind me, breathing little fluttery breaths that are strangely relaxing.

We stay like that for what feels like a long time. I'm _almost _asleep when Rue finally decides to speak.

"I should go," she says. I blink several times to wake up all the way.

"Why'd you come in the first place?" I ask groggily, because I really am curious. I'm beginning to get the sneaking suspicion that she thinks I'm irresistibly hot and can't stay away from me, but I'm _really _hoping that's not it. Talk about awkward.

"I found it very strange that you were sleeping," she says. I open my eyes to look at her, and she's peering right into me, seeing _way _too much. Just like Brianna. "And you're interesting to talk to."

"That's stupid," I yawn.

Rue smiles at me, batting eyelashes so long they brush her cheeks and widening her eyes until they're the size of dinner plates.

"I don't think so," says Rue. "Maybe something we talk about could be useful. You never know." She gets up and walks away before I can respond to that, her steps so graceful that I half expect her to take off and fly at any second. I think she's actually an angel, come down to earth to force me into growing an unwanted conscience. It's annoying as hell.

I watch Rue go, not settling back down to resume my nap until she's a good distance away.

It's not thirty seconds later that someone _else _comes stomping over. Great. No nap.

I groan and force myself into a sitting position, peeling my eyes open just in time to see Katniss Everdeen come to a stop not three feet in front of me. Her hair is braided back out of her face and she's clutching a spear, her grip totally wrong, but the effect a hundred-percent Amazon fighter woman.

A girl who comes after me with a _spear_? And I thought she was hot before.

"What are you doing?" Katniss asks without introduction.

"Trying to take a nap," I reply lazily. "Want to join me?"

Katniss narrows her eyes at me, and, ignoring my question, says, "I mean with Rue. Careers don't talk to other tributes, not unless they have a good reason for it."

I study the Girl on Fire closely. She's seriously worried about Rue. It's all over her face- more concern than I have ever had for anything in my entire life.

"I'm trying to secure her trust so I can find and kill her when we get into the arena," I drawl unconcernedly. "You see, I believe that if I offer her as a virgin sacrifice and bathe in her blood, I will become invincible and dominate the Games."

An awkward silence follows, and I am quite offended when I see the expression on Katniss's face. It's like she thinks I would actually _do _something like that.

"What?" I ask, like I've got no idea how disgusted she is. "I can save her heart for you if you want. That has some decent strength properties, too I stop when I see that Katniss is starting to genuinely get upset. It seems like this girl was born with a stick up her ass. Seriously, I don't know if she'd understand a joke if it came up and bit her head off. "Just kidding," I correct quickly, turning my smirk into an innocent smile. "You need to quit seeing the worst in everyone. How do you know that I don't actually _like _Rue?"

_Because you're a heartless asshole_.

I can see the words on her lips, in her cool silver eyes, and I can see that Katniss Everdeen is the type of person who'll say what she thinks. I'm sure that the words are going to fall off her tongue, but then she takes a deep breath and sucks them back in.

"I don't know. But I can assume. You would only talk to her if you got something from it," says Katniss.

"I'm not going to say that I won't kill Rue if I have the chance," I admit, "but unfortunately I've tried the virgin sacrifice thing before and it doesn't work so hot. She's safe from that. I'm really just spending time with her out of the goodness of my heart."

Katniss laughs harshly, the sound all skepticism and pessimism.

"I don't believe you. Whatever I said yesterday about not playing games with me, just... go ahead. As long as you don't play them with Rue. She's _twelve_. Even _you_ have to be above that."

I swing my legs over the edge of the hammock and stand up, surprised once again by the way that I tower over Katniss Everdeen. I'm used to being tall, but there's something about Katniss that's so much larger than life that it's still a little jarring to see how small she is.

"As much as I would love to play games with you," I say easily, "I've got to get training. Any conversations I've been having with Rue are all her- I'm not trying to screw with a twelve-year-old." She still looks skeptical. Her grip on the spear has tightened since I've stood up, like she's worried I might attack her or something. I absentmindedly reach out and put one hand on her wrist, squeezing a little and smirking when she automatically relaxes her hold. Then I grab her other hand and readjust the way she's positioning her fingers, so that there's less palm on the shaft.

"Hold it like that. Otherwise you'd never get it up on time to kill with any degree of efficiency." Then I tilt my head at her and add, "And if I were you, I'd quit worrying about Rue and start trying to take care of yourself."

"What do you care?" Katniss asks lowly.

I don't know and I'm not sure why I bothered to say that, but seeing Katniss Everdeen here in front of me now, all concern for Rue and none for herself, I realize that I really don't want to see her dead, not until the very end.

I really can't say that, though, so I just shrug my shoulders and walk off, ignoring that Katniss Everdeen is still looking after me, her silver eyes shining with mistrust and secrets.

…

Training passes quickly after that. On the first half of the last day, Cato recruits me to aid him in his quest to intimidate all spectating tributes. In other words, he pretty much makes me his bitch and tells me where to go in order to best highlight my 'limited skills'.

I don't want to listen to him. I can shoot a bow and toss a knife without embarrassing myself, and I can obviously throw a spear like a beast, so I don't _need _to work on those things. I want to scrap together a few last minute skills, especially with a mace, because I think it'd be kind of cool to kill someone with a mace.

Unfortunately, I'm not in the position to say _anything. _

I'm hovering in a place I really don't want to be. Cato invited District Four into our little family and they suck, but I'm seventy nine percent sure that he still wants to kill me more than either of them. Any excuse that I'd give him to take me out would be acted on immediately and with the utmost efficiency.

So I do what Cato says, all while appearing to look like my harmless, apparently stupid, self.

For the most part, it all goes good. Rue and I exchange a few words every now and then, and Katniss Everdeen glares at me every single time, but I keep to myself and my Career buddies for the most part, just like I'm supposed to.

Almost before I know it, it's time for the private sessions with the Gamemakers, and, because they can't wait to see my amazing talents, I'm the first one to go.

Rue catches my eye when I saunter out of the lunch room, and I shoot her a cocky smirk as the doors close behind me.

When I waltz into the training room, I bow and confidently announce, "Marvelous Marvel Metzger, extraordinary spear-thrower, at your service."

This gets a couple of chuckles- everyone from the Capitol seems to love me despite the increasingly evident fact that no one else does- and I use their reaction to boost my confidence a little. Without fear or hesitation, because I've obviously done this pretty much every day of my entire life and _know _that I'm ridiculously awesome at it, I stroll on over to the spear station and grab the prettiest one before taking my place a good distance away from a dummy.

I throw and hit Cato… um, the dummy. Grab another one, move back, launch it, and nail it. I do a few more, moving back further than I ever have before, and hitting dummy after dummy- hell, I even manage to impress _myself_- before I am dismissed.

"Thank you for your time," I toss over my shoulder, hoping to score some brownie points. Honestly, they're lucky I'm not asking them to thank me for that wonderful spear-throwing demonstration. I know the lack of variety will hurt me a little- I figured doing anything else would be detrimental to my performance- but I'm still expecting an eight or a nine. It won't be the highest, but combined with my consummate personality and devastatingly good looks, I'm sure it'll be enough.

...

Of course, I'm the first face that flashes up when all the scores are announced later that evening. A big nine flashes brightly by my name, and Glimmer starts to say something about how pathetic I am.

Then her face comes up with a big, shiny eight, and her words die on the tip of her tongue.

"You know," I say, reclining back into my chair as I take in the look of pure fury on her face, "sleeping with the Gamemakers can only help you so much. The vindictive personality probably got you an extra point or two, but being able to handle a weapon without Cato doing it for you, well…" I tilt my head at her and smile, "_that's _what gets you the big numbers."

Glimmer opens and shuts her mouth several times like she can't believe I just said that. I don't really give a hoot. If it bugs her so much that I obviously think she's a whore, then maybe she should quit being one.

"That personality of hers gives her a lot better chance to win the Games than yours does, so I wouldn't be talking," Gloss says. Cato's face flashes up with a ten. I gesture frantically to the Career's evilly smirking visage.

"I'm practically as good as Cato-"

"What if you don't get your hands on a spear?" Gloss asks. I try to appear confident, fail miserably, and shrug.

"No idea. You know that chick from Two, who tore the guy's throat out with her teeth? I could probably manage that pretty well. What do you think Cato would taste like? Pork? He looks like a pork kind of guy, I think."

Gloss lets out a low breath. I feel like doing the same.

His question got me.

A knife or bow would be somewhat useful, but without a spear, Cato could tear me apart.

I lean my head back into my chair and push the thought away. We'll have plenty of spears because the Careers always get pretty much all the weapons, and there'll no doubt be a shit ton of the things shoved into the Cornucopia. If a tribute shows potential with a weapon- like Clove and her knives or Cato and his sword- it _will _be in the arena. The Capitol likes tributes with a signature method of killing. Apparently it makes a better storyline.

Therefore, I shouldn't have to worry.

More faces fly by on screen, most of them unimpressive. I raise a brow when Rue gets a seven, slightly curious as to how she managed a score like that.

Then Rue is gone and the curiosity goes away. Peeta Mellark of District Twelve appears with an eight. As his face fades away, everyone holds their breath while waiting for Katniss's score to come up. Glimmer because she hates her for stealing her thunder, me because I'm strangely interested in her for a multitude of reasons, and the mentors because _everyone _wants to know about Katniss Everdeen.

I should have expected it, but I'm still shocked when the eleven appears next to her stony face.

Glimmer is on her feet immediately.

"Marvel, are you _seeing _this? That fucking District Twelve upstart is making all of us look like a bunch of morons." She wheels on me. "_What _did she do? How did she manage an _eleven!" _Glimmer takes a moment and blinks her pretty eyes, staring when she sees no anger evident in my expression. "Why aren't you getting mad?"

I shrug. I am mad. Really. I dislike getting beat, especially by a girl who has probably _never _trained for this. I've never been overly competitive though, so I'm not too butt-hurt. As angry as Cato surely is, I don't have a huge vendetta against anyone who outdoes me.

In fact, I happen to find it more than a little impressive when that someone is a hot girl with a fiery personality.

"I don't know. She only beat me by two points, and, to be honest, it's kind of a turn-on."

I'm honest when I say that. I've never been a huge fan of girls before- they've always been a little frightened of me and the ones who did brave my spears whined too much- but Katniss Everdeen seems so wonderfully different. She even confronted me. While holding a _spear_.

I'm not obsessed, but I'm definitely interested.

I suppose it's a good thing that she's going to die in the arena. My mother's reaction to _that _relationship would make Cato look like a scared puppy.

"_What_ did you just say?" Glimmer growls, going back to the turn-on comment.

"That I think it's a turn-on," I repeat, shrugging my shoulders a little. She's jealous. I totally knew it. She wants me.

"Glimmer, leave," Gloss cuts in, his expression carefully blank.

I can see her start to protest, but Cashmere calmly stands and guides her out of the room. Tilly, who had been surprisingly quiet up until that point, clears out, too.

"So, what's with the little tête-à-tête?" I ask, facing Gloss. "I do understand how serious the Katniss thing is, you do realize that, right? I mean, she'll steal sponsors and everything, but getting angry-"

"Oh, I'm not mad at you," Gloss smirks. "Your comment actually gave me a wonderful idea. One that will get you just as many sponsors as your little Katniss, if not more. You made things difficult with your line during the parade, but I think I have finally figured out your angle for the interviews."

I raise a brow at this, all ears. Anything that'll get me home alive is pretty fair game at this point.

"You're likable. Talented. But the Capitol wants an underdog, someone who's struggling. They like a _story_." Gloss locks eyes with me, and now he's almost shaking with excitement. His blue eyes are bright beyond belief. "How do you feel about turning your little infatuation into a story of doomed love?"

I smile. Sponsors will be _dying _to spend money on me.

"If you're the one who explains things to my mother once we get back home… I'll do it."


	5. Team Marvel

The next day is started with an intense discussion between Gloss and me about my interview that evening. His enormous ego is thankfully tempered down by his excitement, which makes him something within a mile or so of likable. The Katniss thing has him pumped. According to him, people are already interested in sponsoring me, but this will seal the deal with all of them, plus turn _Katniss's _sponsors onto me.

Our primary concerns are found in her opinion of me- which is equivalent to one's usual attitude towards a mentally retarded rabid poodle- and Peeta. Now, I find Peeta quite the teddy bear, big, gentle lug that he is, and don't foresee him causing any trouble. Unless, of course, that hand-holding shindig they flaunted during the tribute parade was a hint of something more.

Fortunately, these concerns are pretty minor given that any lack of interest on Katniss's part will hurt her more than it will hurt me. Dejected Marvel will attract sponsors. Pissy Katniss will not.

In my opinion, the whole situation is quite _Marvel_ous.

Once Gloss and I have the interview down, I am sent off with Tilly. She begins by going over a few manners things, but soon it becomes obvious that mine are absolutely impeccable when I bother to make them so. Then she goes into facial expressions, but like my manners, those are things that everyone in District One just _know_. So I'm written off as perfect and sent on my own pretty little way.

Because I've got a few hours until I have to start prep, I abandon the first floor and take the stairs- I'm sure Tilly would be _horrified _at the wasted effort- down to the Training Room.

The place looks empty when I first get there, but I feel a pair of eyes on me right away. It takes me a moment, but after a little looking I see a pretty familiar figure hovering around in front of the knife-throwing station, standing with one leg cocked and a hand on her hip. She's got a pretty good-sized blade held out in front of her.

Glimmer must have thought it was someone else at first, because when she sees that it's me she lowers the knife and her look of surprise morphs into a scowl that I interpret as a direct manifestation of her unrequited feelings for me.

"Glim," I say, even though I'd rather pretend she doesn't exist and go off on my own. Glimmer's not one for being ignored, and as not-scared as I am of her, she's got Cato on her side. I wouldn't want her to spread rumors of any misbehavior on my part if he's one of the guys she's planning on visiting tonight. "Did Cashmere get bored trying to turn you into something other than a scary bitch?"

"No," says Glimmer bitterly. She smirks a shattering-glass smile. "She actually had an easy time turning me into a ditsy whore, which is apparently my best bet for getting sponsors. I'll apparently get sponsored by dozens of guys who're hoping to buy me as soon as I win the Games."

Ouch. I grimace and for once am thankful that my good looks are primarily products of my own large ego and slightly misplaced self-confidence. I may have a great personality, but I really don't think that a guy who'll be eternally known for pastel suits and furry pink coats really screams, 'male prostitute'.

"That sucks. I like my angle better."

"Loving Katniss Everdeen?" asks Glimmer bitingly. She laughs harshly once and says, "You say I'm too low-class for you, and now you're going to 'pine' after _her_? God, you're a hypocrite."

I realize that she's right in a way, but I don't feel too bad about it.

"See, if I would have gone after you, I would have been a horny guy with an affinity for hot, easy girls and one night stands. It would have hurt me more than it helped me. Katniss, on the other hand…"

"Is some holy angel that you can pretend to actually love," finishes Glimmer in a voice that bites.

I take a moment to think that over and realize she's completley right. Katniss Everdeen is everything that Glimmer is not. Innocent and protective and actually relatively moral. A girl to love and not just screw. As strange as this is, it makes me feel almost sorry for Glimmer more than anything, because really she's got the shit end of the deal and there isn't a thing she can do about it.

"Well, yeah. Pretty much," I shrug. "Besides, you've got Cato now."

"Cato?" Glimmer laughs. She shakes her head at me and almost looks sad. "He's just like all the rest of them."

Except she actually gives a shit about him. It's somewhere in her eyes and this little string of hopelessness that runs behind her voice, and I almost want to call Glimmer an idiot because Cato won't bat an eye when she dies. Then I realize that it's entirely her fault and I'm not in any position to really give a rat's ass about any of this, so I say, "At least you're going to die soon."

I expect Glimmer to throw a hissy fit at that, but instead she shrugs and for a second there's nothing in her eyes but a fading fire that doesn't look like it has much time left. Then she puffs up and shakes her head and says, "I'm not planning on dying."

It's too late, though, and I can see that she knows there's no way she's going to win. No way in hell.

So I laugh at her because it's almost funny that Glimmer has chosen now to become human, that she finally cares about someone and it turns out to be an asshole like Cato, that the girl who has never feared _anything _has already almost accepted her imminent death.

"You know," I say finally, "I'm starting to think that you've got a reason for being such a bitch."

Glimmer shakes her head at me and turns away, still holding the knife. I watch as she drives it into the dummy in front of her. It's slightly off center. So close to being perfect, but not quite good enough, and I think that Glimmer's getting pretty pissed off about always being just a little off because she glowers at the dummy for a while and then stalks away with her lips twisted in a pout and her eyes shining with something that I would call tears if I thought Glimmer was able to cry.

…

That evening, I lean back in my chair on Caesar Flickerman's elaborately lighted stage and stretch my arms out behind my head. I'm wearing another suit that consists of copious amounts of bright blue, but I rather like this one. Different from Cato's all-business gray suit and threatening demeanor, my stylists have dressed me to be _likeable, _which is of the utmost importance.

I'm powerful, I know it, but that's not the angle I'm going for. I need to be amiable. Loveable. Funny. Sweet. So the bright blue suit it is.

Caesar strolls out onto stage and kicks the thing off with a few wonderfully cheesy jokes. Then it's Glimmer going out to take her place, wearing a dress that might as well not be there. I study her closely, my eyes taking in every inch of her perfect body, but when I'm done I find myself looking at Katniss Everdeen in a shimmering dress made out of fire and jewels and thinking that she may not be sex on legs, but she's more _beautiful _than Glimmer will ever be.

The interviews begin and Glimmer spends her three minutes flirting with the crowd and giggling like a schoolgirl and not acting like herself at all, and then she's done and it's my turn. I hop to my feet and lope confidently onto the stage, waving to the crowd and grinning before sinking into the chair next to Caesar.

"Marvel," he says with a smile. "The charming tribute from District One. How are you liking the Capitol so far?"

I laugh like it's a ridiculous question and say, "Do you even have to ask? It's amazing, Caesar. The food, our rooms… hell, even the weapons are great. I think half my motivation for winning is going to be so I can come back here and celebrate with all the wonderful people."

That gets me a thundering round of applause, and Caesar smiles at me. He has it figured out by now, that District One tributes train to catch sponsors more than to use weapons, and I can see that he knows he won't have to help me out too much.

"Half the motivation?" asks Caesar once the applause dies down. "If you're so taken with the Capitol, what other motivation do you need?"

"Well," I say, almost shaking with how thrilled I am at this opportunity. I can feel my smirk wanting to grow wider, but instead I force it down and put on a happy mask instead. "District pride, I suppose, although we've already got plenty of that. Really, I want to win for my family."

"Your family," says Caesar, nodding and smiling. "Your father is a very prominent producer of fine jewelry, is he not?"

"The best," I say proudly. "He's a great guy, too." _Bull crap. _"My mother is just as wonderful… I can't imagine my childhood without her amazing home-cooked meals and loving presence. I owe everything I am today to those two people, and I've got to get home for them. Well, and for Brianna. My sister."

There's a little hush, and I think that I'm surprising everyone, including myself, with how believable I'm sounding. I mean, really? My mother would never lower herself to servants' work like cooking meals or raising a son. I'm lying through my teeth.

"And can you tell us about your sister?" Caesar prompts gently.

"Gladly," I say. "She's twelve years old and, well… amazing, that's the only word for it. I _really_ can't die because I need to get home to her- I mean, losing an example as great as mine?" I boom out a laugh. "The poor girl wouldn't know what to do."

"I'm sure she wouldn't," Caesar says with a chuckle. "But tell me, Marvel. Is there another reason you want to get home? A beautiful young lady perhaps?"

_Perfect. _

I laugh a little and shake my head, smiling tightly.

"Nah, not back in District One, Caesar. None of those girls have caught my attention yet, and, well… the only one in Panem who _has_ is under the distinct impression that I'm an idiot."

There's another short bout of silence, and I love the way that Caesar's eyes widen with realization.

"Your comment on Miss Everdeen made quite a bit of noise earlier this week," he says slowly. "You don't mean to say…"

"I wasn't just joking," I reply, sitting up a little straighter and erasing my smile, just for a second. "I'm just… bad with showing my feelings. But I knew from the moment that Katniss volunteered for her sister, little...uh, Primrose, who looks so much like Brianna, that there wasn't another girl in the nation like her. I've been watching her, wanting her to at least notice me, but… this isn't exactly the place to meet girls, and I don't think I'd deserve her anyway. I _love_ her so much, but I'll never be able to have her, not just because of the Games, but because she's way too good for me."

The buzzer goes off, and I stand and reclaim my spot like I can't hear the shock that's running through the audience, through all of Panem. The screens go to Katniss Everdeen's face, pale and shocked and showing too many kinds of emotion to read.

"You are full of _shit_," Glimmer hisses as I sit, but I feel like I'm high. I just shut up an entire nation. It's a struggle, keeping on my sad face when I can practically hear the crowd thinking thoughts like, _Gee, I've got to go sponsor that poor, hopeless bastard, _or, _He seems like such a great guy… I should probably make sure he gets home alive. _

"_Somebody's _jeal-ous," I sing back, reaching to pat her on the back but recoiling when she hisses at me.

Clove is up next, but it's a lost cause. Everyone is waiting for one tribute's interview, and no one really gives a hoot that Clove loves her knives or that Cato knows four fool-proof ways to kill a man with a piece of string.

I don't pay any more attention to most of them than the crowd does, but I do listen when Rue comes up. I watch her float onto the stage dressed like an angel, and don't take my eyes off of her as she proclaims herself 'hard to catch' and tells Caesar not to count her out.

Then Thresh is up, with his muscular arms and two-word answers that are drowned out by the crowd's now incessant cries of 'Katniss! Katniss!' Before Caesar can plow through two questions, the buzzer sounds and it's her turn to take the stage.

The Girl on Fire doesn't look at me as she walks past, but I stare at her, taking in her beautiful dress, the jewels shimmering like fire on her shoulder, and her wide silver eyes, nervous and shell-shocked and not ready for this.

"Good luck, Darling," I call after her, leaning forward a little so that I can keep my eye on her as she passes by in her sparkling dress. I've quite outdone myself in picking the love of my life, judging by how she looks tonight.

The crowd seems to think so too, because they really lose it when she demurely- who would've thought that the distrustful little Chihuahua girl could be _demure_?- sits herself next to Caesar.

"Well, Katniss," Caesar says once Katniss's time starts. "I'm sure you have a few things you would like to discuss, but I'm afraid that your interview won't get very far if you don't address one certain thing right away. Everyone has been dying to hear… What do you think of Marvel Metzger, the wonderful boy from District One?"

Katniss swallows. Her hands are shaking and her face is red and I'm glad that she looks so charming because maybe it'll make my mother a little less pissed at me when I get home and have to explain this to her.

"I think…" starts Katniss. She looks at her hands. "He's… sweet. But I have to get home for _my _sister." She's a terrible liar- I know she thinks I'm unfeeling and stupid- but the Capitol is just dense enough to buy her next words "If circumstances were different, I wouldn't be so cold, but only one of us is coming out, and I can't afford to get attached to anybody."

"You were holding your district partner's hand earlier," says Caesar. "Would that have anything to do with your reluctance?"

Katniss blushes scarlet. For whatever reason, I hope she says no. I don't want to have any 'competition'.

"I'm not involved with anyone… please." Caesar finally seems to understand her reluctance to answer any questions that have to do with doomed love, so he moves on to things about her family and life back in Twelve, while I listen closely, very aware of the way that the camera flickers to my face every few seconds.

When Katniss's buzzer goes off, there are a few shouts of protest, wanting more, something definite, something happy, but it's too late and Peeta is up.

There's a little chit chat. Then Caesar asks him what he thinks of my declaration.

"Well," says Peeta. "I don't like it. At all. See… I've loved Katniss for ever since I could remember. I can't get too angry with Marvel because I know what he sees in her- she's amazing- but I won't let him just have her, either."

I open my mouth like I can't believe this, but really it was almost expected. He follows her like a love-sick puppy.

Oh well. Love triangles are always entertaining.

There's some cheering and some booing from the crowd, and I can already see people picking sides. Team Marvel or Team Peeta. Amazingly talented and good-looking boy from District One, or the guy from District Twelve who is soft enough to be classified as a stuffed animal.

The interviews are concluded, and before heading back to my room, I am cornered by three angry Careers.

"If you are serious, I will make sure to kill you the _second _I get my hands on you tomorrow," Cato growls.

I laugh and clap him on the back.

"Cato, friend, you _heard _their reaction, right? I just got our little group a share of Miss Firegirl's attention. Well, that and a lot of something that starts with an 's' and ends with a 'ponsors'."

They look at me. I can see that none of them like what I did, but finally it is accepted and I'm free to go.

When I return to our floor, Gloss greets me with a pat on the back and a, "Great job, Kid."

I head to my room right after. The Games are tomorrow and I want to rest. It's not until I'm laying down in my bed by myself, with no noise or anyone else around, that I realize something very, very troubling.

I'm nervous. Not sick nervous, or worried about killing, or even really concerned with the prospect of looking death in the eye, but there's just a tiny niggling sensation in the back of my mind that I'm not sure how to interpret. Something between anxiousness and excitement, but tainted with a feeling of 'I don't want to bother with this'. Like surviving the Games will be more trouble than it's worth, which of course is a ludicrous idea, but one that I can't get rid of.

For a while I toss and turn and try to sleep, but I can't. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never cared about this before, not even after I was Reaped, but now the idea of doing this is just… ugh. After a while, I actually realize that even just _attempting _to sleep now is a complete waste of time. My head is too screwed up.

As sitting in my room and staring a blank wall doesn't sound excessively exciting, I sneak out and wander the fancy hallways of the now deserted floor. This continues for a short amount of time before I stumble across an interesting-looking door that I haven't noticed before.

With nothing better to do, I slowly open the door and take a peek inside. A staircase.

I should go back to my room. I should get some sleep, store energy for the Games, but I know I won't be able to. I feel too jumpy. Like I'm already in the arena, in a place where someone could be lurking behind every corner, wanting to end my life just as badly as I want to end theirs.

No way in hell am I sleeping. I start up the staircase.

It spirals so far up that soon I'm concerned I've stumbled upon a stairway to heaven or something like that, but then I realize that I'd never be allowed near such a thing, and my worry goes away. It's not long after that that the staircase comes to an end, anyway, stopping above a small cement platform with a ladder off to the side.

I curiously climb up the ladder and suck in a breath when I see that I'm on top of the Training Center, looking down at all of the little Capitol ants and their parades- parades for me and Peeta and the Girl on Fire, because, right now, us three _are_ the Hunger Games.

My nerves die down as I look down at these little people, celebrating my existence. For a moment I'm almost glad that I got picked, even though it would have been easier not to have been. This experience, feeling so much power and having so much fame… it's worth it if I look at it like this. Definitely.

I move close to the edge, walking forward until I notice another person standing there, so silently that I didn't even notice her against the backdrop of lights and parties. When I recognize the familiar figure, I even smile a little bit.

Apparently the Girl on Fire is having some problems sleeping herself.

"Katniss," I say softly. I don't want to scare her, but the little Chihuahua jumps to her feet and whirls around, opening her mouth just like she's getting ready to yap. "Just didn't want to surprise you."

I want to say something else, preferably about how now that I'm here, she can declare her undying love for me and kiss me until the sun rises- because she is attractive, whether or not I actually love her- but I keep my mouth shut. I have to _act _like I love her, even when it seems like no one is watching, because that's the only way that people will believe this is real.

"Marvel," she says lowly, and I watch as her silver eyes narrow to slits and her face turns stony. I can see that she had been having some emotional moment that I'm not allowed to see, and I can feel that I have hell to pay for interrupting it. "When I told you to leave Rue alone and play your games with me, I did not mean that you could do this… that you could make me look like a fool. You and Peeta both! Do you know how weak I look now?"

"Weak?" I laugh. I take a step closer to her and she doesn't back away. "Katniss-"

"Don't _call _me that."

I tilt my head at her, finally coming to the conclusion that this girl is unquestionably strange.

"What else do you want me to call you?" I ask. "Kat? Nissy? Katty?"

Fire flashes in Katniss's eyes, and I hold up my hands quickly, defensively. Apparently she's not into the whole nickname thing.

"Are you even allowed up here?" she asks.

I shrug.

"I dunno. No one told me I'm not. You look a little rough, though. Are you okay?"

Katniss locks eyes with me.

"Go to hell."

Shit. I've never quite heard her _this _pissed before, and being an innocent little doll from District Twelve, I didn't even know she could snap like that. I actually have to bite back a laugh.

"Katniss," I say softly, reaching up to put a hand on her cheek. She slaps it away and I smile. "Please, calm down. I wasn't playing a game, okay? I am serious. I think I love you."

Katniss smiles sadly and shakes her head, saying, "If you actually love me, then promise me you won't kill me." She locks eyes with me, and I feel something really strange bubbling up in my stomach, like I've swallowed soap. I swallow hard. "You don't kill someone you love."

I relax a bit, because that's a promise I can actually make. I really _can't _kill her, not without losing my sponsors. Cato can just find her and take her out, and then I'll kill him while he's gloating over the body. _That _would get me a truckload of parachutes. Or, I guess if worse goes to worst and I do wind up having to off Katniss, she'll be dead enough that she won't really be able to hold me accountable for lying.

"I know," I say, looking her right in the eye without any regret at all. "I won't kill you."

Katniss swallows and shakes her head.

"I don't believe you," she says, but I've caught her off guard now. She didn't think I had it in me to say that. "You can't love me. You don't know me. I know how easy it would be for you to lie."

"Katniss," I say soothingly. "I'm not lying, and I do know you. The girl who risks her life for her little sister and makes Panem go silent. Who outscores Careers in training and turns fire into a fashion. The girl who doesn't cry and who doesn't want to win for herself, but for a twelve-year-old who needs her."

I'm proud of myself for that. All my observations packed into a one impressively romantic little speech. In all honesty, I think her actions are more signs of insane selflessness and even weakness than anything too attractive, but she doesn't know that I really think that, or that Gloss and I had gone over her good qualities all morning so I wouldn't be hard-pressed to come up with any for my interview.

That's one of the many good things about coming from District 1- everyone is so fake that acting becomes second nature.

"Just… stop it," Katniss says. "I'm getting home. No matter what. I still don't trust you, but if you do feel anything for me, then I'm sorry. I don't like you anyway, and even if I did, one of us is going to die. Peeta… you… I don't _get _it."

"Don't you?" I ask. I tilt my head at her, because it seems as if she doesn't. I don't love her. I don't love anyone, not really. But even I feel a crazy magnetism towards her. Even now, when she's wearing normal clothes, with a messy braid and no makeup, there's no doubt that Katniss Everdeen is something else, with her silver eyes that glow with the secret and her tight lips that scream pessimism and the innocent tilt of her chin that makes me wonder just how she's going to handle the arena tomorrow.

"No," Katniss says, "and I don't want to. I've never asked to have guys chasing me, especially not ones like _you_." The way that she says 'you' shows me that she thinks I'm the worst kind of person alive, but I don't get mad because she's probably right. "So just go away, and…"

"The Games start tomorrow and you'll have plenty of time to be alone then. No idea why, but I'm having a hell of a time sleeping, and you're obviously not going to lala land anytime soon, so why don't we keep each other company? Make use of these last few hours."

Katniss says nothing, but her gaze leaves me and returns to the people on the streets below. For a few minutes there's silence and I know that she's letting me stay, and a part of me is disappointed that it was that easy, that she's already starting to trust me, but then she looks at me and our eyes meet and I know that just because she's not kicking me out doesn't mean that she trusts me at all.

Her expression is still cold and frigid.

"Don't you care?" Katniss asks. "That they're celebrating down there? Doesn't it make you mad?"

I look at her like she's crazy because her words make no sense.

"Why would I be mad? They're cheering for me."

"They'll cheer if you die, too," Katniss tells me, something like disgust in her eyes.

I think about this, then shrug.

"Whoever kills me will deserve the cheers. It'll be quite the feat, I'd imagine."

"What if your sister was here?" Katniss asks me then. She's trying to get something out of me and I don't know what it is. A test, maybe, one that I'm probably failing miserably. I've always sucked at exams. "What if they cheered at her death?"

"I'd move on," I say. "People cheer for the Games. I do, too, usually. It's just part of life. No different than if she got sick and died. I don't see what's so important about this."

Katniss sighs and shakes her head.

"I don't know why I'm talking about this with you," she says. "You don't get it. Not everyone deserves this. What if you die, Marvel? Don't you think it'd be an unnecessary waste?"

"District One betrayed the Capitol," I tell her, because everyone knows this. "If I die, that's why-"

"But _you _did nothing," she says, and I hear how frustrated she is. It has something to do with her secret, but it's still out of reach, not quite able to be comprehended yet. "This is why I can't even begin to like you. Because you don't see anything wrong with this."

Then she turns and leaves. I watch her go, and then turn back to the people in the streets. Her words don't make sense, and I'm not going to try to work them out now, so I ignore them and focus on calming myself down, concentrating on the lights and noise until any worry is gone and I'm able to creep back to my room and catch a couple hours of sleep.

* * *

**A/N-**

**So, I've been getting a bunch of (super flattering, awesomeazing) reviews and a whole crap-load of alerts and everything, which is super-awesome. Same thing with the previews goes with this chapter- if you ask, I'll give you one- so if you want a sneak peek tell me all about this chapter and remember to request one be sent to you. Or, if you don't want a preview, you could review anyway and make my day. Either way is great. **

**Until next time, ~bballgirl32~**


	6. The Boy With the Bow

I'm woken up too early the next day. By Ventidius, unfortunately. The last non-tribute face that I'm going to see before I go into the arena, and it's got to be a blue-skinned creeper who wears eye-shadow. The urge to groan is almost irresistable.

I sling my legs out of bed and hop around a little, getting my blood flowing and forcing myself awake. Any nerves that I had last night are replaced by excitement, and now I'm itching to get into the arena. To do something epic.

Ventidius leads me up to the roof of the Training Center, and then into a hovercraft where a few other tributes have already been strapped into their seats. I take my place between Clove and Glimmer and let myself get strapped in. When the lady injects a tracker into my arm, I send a winning smile in her direction incase she's got any sponsor money that needs spending.

No one talks as we all wait for everyone else to shuffle in. Some of the tributes are nervous. Glimmer has her eyes closed and is whispering under her breath. She's either strategizing or praying, and unless the prospect of immininent death has driven her to make a last-ditch attempt at finding religion, I'm guessing it's strategizing. Clove and Cato keep glancing back and forth between each other and various tributes, probably scoping out prey. Rue glances at me and smiles weakly, but dealing with Brianna for so long means I'm pretty good at working out what preteen girls are thinking, and Rue is most definitely scared shitless.

As time ticks by, other tributes file in, and lastly the two from District Twelve step somberly into the hovercraft. Both take their seats in silence, but I see that they aren't looking at each other, which means that apparently any friendship or relationship or whatever they've got going on is gone in the light of the Games. For some reason, I like this.

Katniss looks in my direction for half a second, and I send her a bright smile. She doesn't even blink at me, just looks away and stares at her feet, her face strangely pale and her posture completely rigid. I take a few moments to look at this new, anxious side of the Girl on Fire, but it's really not too exciting. I look away before the hovercraft is even in the air.

I doze off a little bit after we get going, and by the time that I wake up again, an attendant is saying that we're almost there. The hovercraft lands ten minutes later, and the tributes are led off in separate directions by their stylists. Before I lose sight of Katniss completely, I lock eyes with her, and she shakes her head at me, just enough to tell me that she won't hesitate to kill me if she gets the chance. In other words, it's pretty much a warning that I should get over her.

"It's too bad that your relationship won't work out," says Ventidius. "Too, too bad. You would have been such a _spectacular_ couple."

"Anything to do with me usually _is _pretty spectacular," I say, even though it wouldn't be true in this case. Being a couple is something that would never work for us, mostly because of my mother and her aversion to anything poor or rat-like. Still, I let Ventidius believe what he wants. It's easier than contradicting him.

A short while later, I'm down in what the suckier tributes call the stockyard. Given that I'll be the butcher and the other tributes will be the poor, dying animals, I don't think the title is accurate in my case, but I go with it anyway. It sounds cool.

Once in my private room, I'm instructed to shower, and then Ventidius hands me the clothes I'm supposed to wear in the Games. Pretty rugged, outdoorsy-type stuff- dark green pants, a thin green shirt and a relatively warm jacket, with sweet hunter-guy boots.

"I'm going to feel like one of those lumberjack guys from Seven," I say as I get into my clothes, moving around to get used to the fabric, which is heavier and more coarse than anything that's sold in District One. "Maybe I should find an axe instead of a spear. Yeah. An axe." I smile and shake my arms out in front of me, psyching myself up. "That would be so freaking awesome."

I think of what Gloss would say to that. Something about me not even being able to lift an axe. He probably wouldn't be that far off. I chuck the axe idea.

A little voice says that I've got thirty seconds. I nod at Ventidius because I know it'll probably be the high point in his life, getting a respectful gesture from a soon-to-be Victor, and then step onto the silver platform in the corner of the room. A glass tube shoots out of the ground and closes me in.

Twenty seconds.

My heartbeat starts quickening. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Making these last few seconds way too long. Any nervousness is gone. I _want _to be in the arena now, to get this thing started, to show the world what I can do.

Ten seconds.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The platform begins to rise up. I blink as the arena comes into view, sun streaming down brightly, lighting up the surrounding forest and glistening off the cornucopia. Around me, the other tributes are taking in their surroundings. I let out a low breath when I see several spears scattered around, including an area with three all right by each other. That's where I'll run to first.

I take stock of the tributes that are on either side of me. The girl from Three, and Rue. I try to make eye-contact with the latter, but she's already turned herself around, ready to run instantly. I'm relieved at that, though I'm not sure I want to know why.

The clock is down to ten. I move my focus back to the Cornucopia.

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

The gong goes off, and I sprint off my platform, straight for the spears.

Around me, other tributes are moving, too, but only a handful can match my long strides. Cato reaches for a sword at the exact same time I scoop up a spear, and we both regard each other for a long second, determining the liklihood of killing the other and pretending it was an accident in the heat of the battle, before turning away and proceeding to turn our attention to the other tributes.

I toss the spear and hit the guy from Seven right in the chest. He drops instantly, and I bend over, picking up another and chucking it towards the chick from District Ten. That one sticks into her back and she drops like a bowling pin, twitching and spazzing and shrieking for the two seconds it takes her to die. I reach for the last spear, planning on taking out one more tribute, but when I turn I see Thresh bulling towards me like a rhino.

I jump back out of the way, and he doesn't even care enough to make an attempt to kill me, instead scooping up the spear, a beastly machete, and a huge backpack, before trudging off into a pretty dodgy looking field. I growl under my breath and quickly search for more weapons, cursing when I'm forced to settle on a long, jagged knife.

Most of the tributes are already dead or gone, but I still flick the knife- it's not even an actual throwing knife- towards a retreating girl from Three, letting out a low breath when it sticks in the back of her leg. With a satisfied smile, I jog over to where she fell and rip it out of her thigh, then force the serrated blade through a space in her ribcage and into her heart to finish her off.

I yank out the knife, getting a lot of skin and blood with it, then stand up more fully and hold up the knife in preparation for a tribute to come at me, but the bloodbath has already died down. I see Clove slit the guy from Five's throat and Cato taking out the guy from Eight, but everyone else is either dead or finished fighting. The girl from Four is standing over her district partner's bloody corpse. Glimmer is moving towards a glistening silver bow that even I could put to better use than her, and a few others tributes are slinking off into the trees, no doubt to be found by us Careers this evening.

Soon after, the cannons start going off, and I count up to eleven. I let out a loud whoop as I skip back nearer to the center of the Cornucopia, where most of the supplies lay untouched. This is absolutely exhilarating right now.

"Almost halfway done," I say, picking up a backpack and several spears and calling them out as mine.

Cato stands and gives me a dark look.

"We're dividing supplies based on kills, Marvel. Put those down and wait. I might have more use for them. I got four. Clove?"

"Three," she says. Glimmer makes a face and admits to only getting one, and the girl from Four is finally threatened away from her partner's body and mutters that she didn't get any. Cato snaps at me and Clove to arm-wrestle for second pick, and of course I beat her, because even though I'm not so big and she spits in my face and digs her ridiculously long claws into my skin, I am a whole lot stronger than she is.

Cato takes the fucking spears anyway.

"You're making all of us weaker by doing that," I speak up, shooting him a dirty look as he collects the seven of them that were scattered around the Cornucopia, as well as the sword he had been using and a good-sized mace, and shoves them off into a corner. He grabs several backpacks and a big bag of apples, too.

Then he turns and laughs, finally answering me.

"I'm also taking away any chance you have of going out and finding your little girlfriend. I'm done now. Your pick, Marv."

Out of spite, I walk over to Glimmer and yank the bow from her perfectly-manicured fingers. She screeches at me, but I ignore her, picking up a few more knives and shoving them in my belt, then stockpiling a portion of the good food, all while eyeing Cato's stupid pile of spears angrily, wanting to speak up against him or threaten to kill him, and yet refraining from being quite _that _stupid.

Clove grabs a small mountain of knives and a backpack, and then Glimmer and District Four fight over the spoils, grabbing whatever useful shit they can before Cato goes back through and hands out the last of the junk evenly between the five of us.

We're just settling down and getting ready to rest until our nocturnal people-hunt when Cato's head jerks towards the bushes.

"Anyone hear that?"

I didn't, but apparently Cato isn't crazy- at least not the hearing-things kind of crazy- because a second later, Peeta steps out from the cover of the forest.

"Can I kill him?" I ask, jumping to my feet and grabbing a knife from my belt. "He's trying to steal my girl."

Taking Peeta out really _would_ help with the sponsors. Anyone who was supporting Peeta would go straight to me- the dominant one- if I managed to kill him this quickly. I would be swimming in flowing silver parachutes.

"Marvel, calm down," Cato says, making his voice flowing and pretty to avoid scaring Bread Boy away. "He's unarmed."

"I just want to talk," Peeta says. His voice is surprisingly steady. If I were him, I'd be scared shitless.

"_Then _can I kill him?" I ask Cato. I'm still running on pure adrenaline. I'd never killed anyone before, but now that I have, I don't want to stop. It's addicting. Having complete power over something is a feeling that's undeniably enjoyable.

Cato unsheathes his sword and makes a big show of pointing it at me before warily approaching Peeta.

"Don't touch him," Cato says to me. Then he looks at Bread Boy. "Fine," he continues, and I can see that he wants to kill Peeta a lot more than I do, probably because he actually had the audacity to outshine him in the interviews, _after _going all out with the whole fire chariot thing. Besides, being rivaled by District One is one thing. It happens. District Twelve, though? A guy like Cato has no choice but to take that personally. "Talk, Lover Boy. What do you want?"

"I want to help you," Peeta says. He lets his eyes land on each one of us individually in a show of courage that would be rather impressive if his hands weren't visibly shaking. I have to feel for him a little. He's the one part of the love triangle that's at an obvious disadvantage. Katniss has her eleven, I've got my marvelousness, and Peeta's got a rumored ability to bake a mean cheese bun. As much as some Capitolites like food, I'm thinking they don't see baking as any more impressive than I do. "I know I can't do much weapons-wise, but… I know all about Katniss. I can help you find her. I even saw which way she went."

I freeze. Yes, I would do something like what Peeta is doing in an instant, but when _someone _else is so shameless, it makes me sick. Peeta selling out Katniss for his own life is a waste, one that Cato will no doubt not understand, and one that I will make no real attempt to stop. Getting in the way of this would be pointless and difficult, even if I do feel unusually angry towards Peeta for being such an asshole.

And to think, I have always been so sure that he is a sickeningly good person. I guess District Twelve has their actors, too.

"How do I know that you're not trying to help her?" asks Cato menacingly.

"I'm not that stupid," Peeta says, trying and failing to stare Cato down intimidatingly. I make a noise of disgust.

"No, you're just a jackass." I twirl my knife once between my fingers. "I'm the underdog in this, you know that, right, Peeta? Katniss has known you longer, likes you more. Both of us were so sure you were the better guy. But I'm not the one helping to find and _kill _her."

"Does it matter?" Peeta laughs harshly, but it's not quite right. Not _really_ harsh. He's still soft as a teddy bear, even when he is betraying his 'true love's' trust. "Only one of us would get out anyway."

"But you'll _die_," I say. "You have to know that one of us, preferably me, _will _kill you. Right now, you're assuring that both you _and_ Katniss will get killed off."

"Marvel, shut up," Cato snaps at me. Then, smiling gently, like he's talking to an invalid, he beckons Peeta over. "Ignore him. We won't hurt you, not if you keep up your end of the deal. Now get over here. We need help setting up."

I make a show of muttering under my breath, but other than a little annoyance, I'm fine with Peeta here. He's just another guy under me on the proverbial food chain. If Cato gets angry, he will now take out Peeta instead of me. Wonderful.

"Yeah," says Peeta. "Sure. Whatever you want."

Cato laughs and starts bossing Peeta around. I shrug and amble off to the shelter of the Cornucopia. Glimmer and Clove are already relaxing underneath, sitting together and gossiping while District 4 mopes in a corner, evidently closer to her partner than she should have been.

I take my place in the shady corner where I placed my share of the supplies and lean back against the wall, letting my head rest against the cool metal. I can still hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears. My hands are sticky with blood from the last girl I killed, but I'm too lazy to go to the lake to wash them. With how little sleep I got last night, I'm actually rather tired, and because there's not going to be anything to do until the sun sets, I close my eyes and let myself slip off into a light doze, knowing that there's nothing to worry about right now. I'm content with my kills, I feel perfectly safe, and Peeta will deflect Cato's anger until he outstays his welcome.

Hell, these Games aren't going to be so bad after all.

…

A flurry of commotion wakes me up, and I realize that the others are getting ready to go. The sun is setting, and we'll no doubt head out pretty soon. I stand up and run a hand through my hair to straighten it, sniffing unpleasantly at the blood still on my hands.

"Anyone else die?" I ask groggily. No one answers, so I take that as a no and push myself to my feet. My bow is still right there, so I sling that over my shoulder and ignore the temptation to shoot it at Cato for stealing my spears. Until Clove is gone, I won't be able to touch him without getting a bitchy little attack dog in my face before his cannon sounds. So I'll just have to function without my babies.

For now.

I grab a backpack and then turn to leave, but I almost run straight into Peeta. He's looking very uncomfortable and holding a couple pairs of night-vision sunglasses. I hold my hand out and grab what I figure to be my pair, but he doesn't let go.

"Lover Boy?" I ask. "My sunglasses?"

"Are you serious?" he asks me. "About Katniss."

"More serious than you, obviously," I snort, tugging at the glasses again. If they break, I'm taking his pair. "Now give me these. We've got to go."

"You'll kill her, though, right? If you see her, you'll kill her?"

I jerk my head at the other Careers, all of whom are in hearing range. Peeta apparently has failed to notice their presence. Wow. And people say _I'm _stupid.

"I'm a Career, Peeta," I say, shaking my head ostentatiously to contradict my words. I don't want Panem to think that my obviously sincere love for Katniss is fake. Can't be losing any sponsors. "Of course I'd kill her. It's what has to be done. You know that, don't you?"

"Right," Peeta says. He's trying to tell me something. Making signals with his hands and winking funny, but I don't get it. I think he's saying something about Katniss, but he can't mouth words to save his life, and I'm not too big on playing charades. I don't expend too much effort to understand him.

"You should see if you can't have a sponsor get you something for that eye," I tell him. "Your mouth, too. You look kinda funny."

"Your _bow_."

I look at my bow. I look at Peeta.

Then I realize what he's spazzing out about.

He wants me to give the bow to Katniss. He fell for it! Lover Boy actually thinks I like her. He's not here to kill her, but because he wants to _help _her.

A little of my anger at him fades away, and suddenly I feel bad for the stupid bastard, putting his trust in someone like me. Because now I know. If he wants to give Katniss a bow so badly, then it's because she's good with it, and if she's that good with it, that's probably where her eleven came from.

"Cato has my spears," I tell him, because no way am I doing anything with my bow when I have nothing else to really protect me against the blond beast. As great as knives are, I'd be dead if he got close enough for me to have the opportunity to use one. Besides, Katniss definitely doesn't like me, and I'm not going to put a deadly instrument in her hands, not when it could end very, very badly if I were to catch her in one of her moods.

I can see it now.

_"Hey, Katniss. I'm being a good person and giving you a bow because I really love you." _

_ "Oh, thanks Marvel." _

_ She picks up the bow and puts an arrow through my neck. _

_ "Asshole," she says, and then skips away while laughing at my stupidity. _

"So?" Peeta asks.

"I'd be left with _nothing_." And I really don't love Katniss, so sacrificing such a great weapon in the name of more sponsors would be just a tiny bit extreme. Really, Peeta's lucky that I hate Cato's guts enough not to tell him all about this. "Besides, somehow I doubt she'll give me the opportunity."

"Oh," says Peeta.

"What are you talking about?" Glimmer asks, flittering over to our conversation. She's got a thin sword and a couple knives in her belt, giving her a hot, warrior-princess vibe. Her t-shirt has miraculously disappeared, leaving her in a tight tank tap that even has Lover Boy doing a double-take.

"We're talking about how you need to put a shirt on," I tell her. "It's getting cold, and I don't want to listen to you bitch all night. And Peeta? What we were just discussing? It's not the time or place. Keep your mouth shut about it."

Cato calls us all together soon after that. District Four is left behind to watch our shit, and then we head forward into the dark, scary forest to hunt us some tribute.

"This has been a good day, hasn't it?" Cato asks loudly, trying to make conversation. He's got a spear on his back. I reach a hand out like I want to touch it, then pull it back, knowing he'd kill me if I tried.

"Almost perfect," says Clove. I'm not looking at her, but I can still feel that she's grinning broadly. "All we need to do now is find District Twelve, and it'll be faultless. Where'd you say you saw her go again, Lover Boy? This way?"

"I think," says Peeta. "It's been a long time since then, though. She could be far away by now."

"If she could be so far away," I yawn, "why are we keeping you?" I look at Cato. "He doesn't know where she really is."

"He knows other things," says Clove. "Now calm down. You're getting jealous."

"Jealous," I scoff.

Then I smell the fire. I pause and sniff for a second, then look up, catching sight of a column of smoke.

"Hey, stop. I found an idiot."

"Are you sure you didn't see your reflection?" Glimmer mutters, sending a challenging smirk in my direction. I ignore her.

"No, look. Smoke."

I point, and three pairs of hungry eyes follow my hand. Peeta looks, too, but he's more squeamish than hungry. I'm just excited.

"I call it," I say, and take off running. Cato curses and starts sprinting after me, having a lot easier time with the logs and sharp turns than I do. He outstrips me at the last second, tearing into a clearing with a curly-haired girl frantically scrambling to get out of a sleeping bag. She must have heard us coming. Shocking, with how quiet we were.

"Oh, come on," I complain, taking in her hurt-puppy expression and franticly darting eyes. Clove and Glimmer appear behind Cato and I, moving to the sides and effectively boxing her in. "You've already got four kills."

"I need five," Cato says, unsheathing his blade. I stop arguing, not wanting him to get any ideas while he's still waving that sword around, and step back and watch him jump at the girl several times, taunting her playfully before finally sliding the sword into her stomach.

I cringe as her body crumples to the ground. _That _was dirty, not killing her cleanly. I can still see her moving. She isn't even dead yet.

"Come on, let's get out before the body starts stinking," Cato says.

"But the cannon hasn't-" I start. Cato looks right at me and then makes a big show of chopping off the girl's head. The cannon booms.

"Now it has. Come on. Let's go."

I start to follow him, but stop when I catch a glimpse of silver in the trees. Looking more closely, I see a black sleeping bag and tightly pursed lips, and then those bright eyes, laced with fear. For some strange reason, I find myself disliking this fear. I think of sponsors. Of what Peeta said.

Katniss Everdeen is watching me. I 'love' her. The poor girl is going to die in a few days. I should throw her a bone. Hell, maybe she'll even help me kill Cato.

"Hold on," I pipe up, bending onto my knees. _What in the hell am I doing?_ "I got a rock in my boot."

"Just catch up to us," Cato says impatiently. "We're not going to wait."

I protest a little, but pretty soon they're gone, not giving even a tiny little crap about leaving me behind. Discreetly, I slip off my bow and quiver and set them on the ground.

"You better use these on Cato," I hiss, still trying to figure out what heavenly spirit has possessed me powerfully enough to make me act like this. "Not me. Anyone but me."

I run forward a short ways, but stop when I hear beeping.

When the parachute comes down, there are three beautiful spears sitting inside.

I laugh maniacally.

I couldn't have asked for a better trade. Oh, how pissed Cato shall be, and how much joy shall I take in his anger.

_This _is why I helped Katniss.

…

"WHERE IN THE HELL DID YOU GET THOSE?"

I laugh at Cato as I retake my place in the middle of our little party of Careers. Peeta is looking at me strangely, and I can see that he notices my bow has disappeared. There's a question in his eyes, and I shrug. What can I say? My goodness knows no leaps or bounds.

"Sponsors, dear Cato. See? I forgot my bow, and I'm like, 'Oh shit', because I didn't want to go back and lose track of you guys. Then the parachute comes, and I get three perfectly amazing spears. I just _love _the folks in the Capitol."

Cato's face is turning red- I can see that even in the dark- so I step behind Peeta and let him seethe to Clove. Glimmer starts complaining about the cold- someone should have listened to Marvel and put on an actual shirt- and Peeta purposely slows his pace. I slow down with him, realizing that Lover Boy wishes to speak with me.

"She was _there_?" Peeta asks once everyone else is a good ten feet ahead of us. They're all too preoccupied with themselves to notice that we're not quite with them anymore.

"Yeah, up a tree," I say. "Watching us. _You_." His eyes widen with the realization that she was feet away from being killed, and I continue, "She's probably pissed at you. You realize that, right?"

"It doesn't matter," Peeta shrugs. He lets out a low breath. "She's safe. I may not like you, but I owe you. A lot."

He's so sincere that it makes me sick. Here Katniss is, probably thinking that I'm the good one, not telling the Careers about her hiding spot and leaving her that bow, and she probably _hates _Peeta because all she knows right now is that he's with the Careers and not her.

I'm the one faking _everything_, and Peeta's off risking his life and looking like an asshole without even caring what Katniss or anyone else thinks of him. Because he loves her _that _much.

I feel pretty shitty about this. Really, I do. But winning is more important, and if looking like the ideal lover is going to help me win, then I don't really give a crap if Katniss thinks Peeta is a bad guy or if everyone has the entirely wrong impression of me.

Sacrifices for the greater good. Really.

"You'll be dead before you get the chance to repay me," I tell Peeta lightly, and truthfully, because he's going to be lying to Cato, and Cato, if nothing else, is observant. The second he realizes what Peeta's doing, Peeta will be dead, and any debts will have to be left unpaid.

As if a poor little District Twelve rat could ever have anything that I want, anyway.

Our little group pushes forward. Peeta and I subtly rejoin the rest, and we spend the remainder of the night trying and failing to find other tributes. I would guess our lack of success has something to do with our loud conversations, but given that I enjoy having a good late-evening chat, I never comment.

When we get back to the Cornucopia, District Four is barley awake, resting her head on her sword and blinking blearily when we stumble back into view. Cato quickly goes through the supplies to make sure that no one took anything, and then we're given permission to rest. I lay out a sleeping bag and get nice and comfortable under the shade of the Cornucopia.

Cato volunteers for first watch and walks off, and I find my eyes going to Glimmer, who watches him go with blank eyes. She gazes after him for a second, and then must feel my gaze because she turns to catch me staring.

I must be turning into a saint or something, because seeing Glimmer there, looking cold and knowing that she's probably wishing she could cuddle up to Cato, I actually feel bad for her. Without really thinking about it, I wave her over, and even though I swear that she's going to snap at me, Glimmer slowly makes her way over to where I'm lying and puts her sleeping bag right next to mine, scooting close enough to swipe my body heat.

Glimmer says nothing, but I can feel her eyes on me as I drift off to sleep, silently asking what I'm doing.

Like with Katniss, I don't know, but it feels right, so I let her stay.

**...**

**A/N- Sorry, I had a couple previews due, but I figured that since I'm updating now, it'd kind of be a waste of time to send them out. Anywhoo, thanks for all the awesome reviews, the preview thing goes again for this chapter, and I'm looking forward to hearing lots of comments and criticisms on this chapter. Remember, reviews inspire me to post faster- hint, hint. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	7. Fire and a Girl on Fire

"Your turn to keep watch."

I slowly open my eyes. The first thing that I notice is the smell of rosy shampoo, and then I realize that Glimmer is cuddled up tight against me, her blonde curls spilling over my chest. I blink several times and stare at her, wondering what in the hell happened and how she got out of her sleeping bag. Then I figure that I'm so damn sexy that she must have subconsciously been crawling closer to me all night.

Someone clears their throat, and I look up, seeing Clove standing over me for the first time. She looks impatient and she's holding a big-ass knife. I suppose it's her watch that I'm supposed to be taking over.

"I can't," I say, nodding towards Glimmer. I'm about to crack a comment about sleeping with a hot girl, but then I remember that I'm supposed to be in love with Katniss. I check my words at the last second and instead say, "I'm currently providing warmth for a close friend-"

"Get up right now, or I will cut off your balls and _choke _you with them."

There is no doubt in my mind that Clove is perfectly serious.

"Actually, you know what," I say quickly, "I think Glimmer will be fine without me."

I roll back a little bit, shimmying to try to get out from underneath Glimmer, but she winds up pitching forward and smacking her head on the ground. I grimace a little as she jerks awake and holds up a knife, looking dazed and threatened. Then her eyes land on me.

She glowers, and I can see that she's going to blame me for putting her in this quite awkward position, but I hold up my hands quickly and say, "Before you get too pissed off, I'll have you know that you were the one who decided to use me as a makeshift pillow."

Glimmer blinks and I see realization flash in her eyes before they harden and she wakes up enough to get her ever-present emotionless mask back into place.

"It was cold," she says harshly, and then she's roughly climbing back into her own sleeping bag, pulling it tightly around her and turning her back to me. Clove snorts and mumbles something about blind whores under her breath, and I climb to my feet, shoving a knife in my pocket and grabbing a spear to hold up and look threatening with.

I skip around the other sleeping Careers and take up my post on a rock outside the Cornucopia. It's strangely nice outside, with very little wind and a lot of sun, and I lean back and enjoy the warmth on my face. Ninety percent of the time, District One was either windy, cloudy, snowy, or foggy, so it's nice to have weather like this. A beautiful place to kill, and I suppose, if I was referring to anyone except for myself, a beautiful place to die.

For a long time, everything is silent and I'm tempted to slip back to sleep, but then a bush rustles and I'm on my feet in an instant, holding out my spear and hoping for someone to throw it at.

"Don't worry," I call out. "I won't hurt you. Trust me."

The tribute must realize that they're at a distinct disadvantage and have no real choice, because a second later the scrawny little nerd from Three creeps out from his hiding place.

"Please, don't throw it," he says quickly, obviously not believing my claim that I'm not going to hurt him. He must either be really brave or really suicidal if he knows I'm going to kill him, but decides to face me anyway.

Or maybe he's just lazy and doesn't feel like being chased.

"Alright," I say. "If you want, I can just stab you with it instead. It'll accomplish the same thing. Actually, if you stand still, I'll be able to thrust it through one of your eyes and straight into your brain. You wouldn't feel a thing."

The boy cringes.

"No, no, I mean don't kill me. Please, please don't kill me. I came here because I want to help you. I mean, I'm smart, right? I can be really useful."

I look this boy over. He's almost a foot shorter than me, maybe fourteen, with little brown eyes and the arrogant twist to his lips that smart people usually have when they think they're better than you. The kind of kid I would _really _like to kill. I fidget a little, itching to wipe that little nerd look from his face, but I know I can't. If the cannon were to wake up Cato and it turns out he wanted the boy alive, well, I'd be more screwed than Glimmer at a brothel.

Good god, I can't believe that I'm bending over backwards to make _Cato _happy. I can't wait to kill that slimy bastard.

"How can you help us?" I ask coolly.

"You know the mines? The ones that go off if tributes leave their plates early?" the boy asks.

"Yeah…"

"Well, I've been studying them. I can reactivate them, I think. To keep your supplies safe."

I look at this kid. Something makes me wonder if the Gamemakers would be very happy about him using weapons that he's not supposed to be, but then I realize that I don't really give a hoot or a holler, so I shrug.

"I'll take you to Cato, and he can decide what to do with you," I say.

Then I lead him over to a sleeping Cato, my spear pressed firmly into his back.

Both of us pull up short when we approach the beast at rest. Cato's still glaring, even in his sleep, and he's got his sword clutched in his enormous hands, almost as if he thinks it's a teddy bear or something. Beside his sleeping bag sit his supplies and his ridiculous stash of spears that he will probably _never _use. I nudge one with the toe of my boot and guess at the probability that he'll notice one is missing.

I bite my lip, hesitating. Then I pull back. Not worth it, especially now that I've got the three from my sponsors.

The boy from Three looks at me impatiently.

I cough. Cato groans and lets out a low breath.

"Is it my watch?" he grumbles, sitting up a little. He yawns, opens his eyes, and takes in the kid beside me. Cato blinks a couple times, as if trying to figure out what this kid is doing here, and then looks at me like he thinks I'm a moron. "What? Are you seriously offering me a sacrifice? A tribute for a spear or some shit like that? Fuck, Marvel, just kill him."

"He says he can rewire the mines," I tell Cato, jerking my head to the tribute platforms. "I mean, like make them work again. To guard our supplies."

"In exchange for food and protection," the kid adds. He's filthy and cut up, and if we don't help him, I have no doubt that he'll be dead by morning out of a sheer inability to survive. This is a last-ditch effort to make it a little deeper into the Games. He's weak, easy prey. The kind of tribute that actually deserves to die because he's stupid enough to think he actually has a chance in the first place.

"Marvel, leave," Cato says. His blue eyes land on the kid, and I immediately know that there's no way he's dying yet. Cato obviously likes the idea of having working bombs on our side. Big, flashy, and dangerous. Just like him. "I need to talk with this kid."

And that's how, twenty minutes later, I am stuck digging up dead mines while nerd boy watches and instructs me on what to do. I'm tired and cranky and don't like the idea of going more than a day without a shower, but while the other Careers sit around and watch, Peeta and I get even filthier, all while letting a kid half our size boss us around.

The thing is, Peeta doesn't even seem upset about it. He's not smiling or anything, but he doesn't look pissed either, and his eyes are shining like he _enjoys _the work. I grumble under my breath and look over at the nerd kid.

"I should have just killed you."

Cato snaps at me to keep going, and I look back over at my sponsor-given spears, dreaming about throwing one into his thick neck and watching him fall over dead, unable to breathe without choking. What an entertaining way to watch someone die, having the pleasure of seeing them drown in their own blood. It's a pretty picture. If nothing else, it motivates me to keep working.

I yank a mine out of the ground and toss it at the guy's feet. He does something to it and gently sets it in one of Peeta's holes, and then steps back while waiting for Peeta to carefully cover the thing with dirt. That location is then marked off on a little diagram that the kid's making on a leaf, and the process is repeated. Over and over and over again.

We finish just as the sun sets, and I let out a relieved breath, expecting a break.

Instead, Cato barks, "District Three, you're staying here. Get our shit into the middle of your little minefield, and if _any _of it is damaged or stolen, I will make sure that your death is the most drawn-out, painful piece of torture that has ever occurred in the history of the Hunger Games. Do you _understand _this?"

"Actually," the kid says in a shaking voice, "if your supplies are damaged, it would most likely be the result of a mine going off, in which case I would already be-" He sees the look on Cato's face and trails off, "dead…"

Cato mutters something under his breath and picks up his sword. I watch on incredulously as he waves at Peeta and me to hurry up and grab our things. With a low curse, I jog forward and pick up my spears and backpack, then head out after Cato, with Peeta right behind me.

The whole night is pretty much useless. We scour the forest and find nothing. I suppose that's to be expected, especially after how many died in the bloodbath. The Gamemakers wouldn't want things ending too quickly and everyone knows this, so when we head back to the Cornucopia that morning, it's not with too much disappointment.

When the next two days pass the same way, however, we all start getting a little pissed. Clove and Cato are both turning bloodthirsty, wanting a kill, and I can feel everyone in the Capitol waiting for the same thing, dying for us to stumble across _someone _to take out. Hell, I'm not as kill-obsessed as Cato, but even I start considering stabbing Peeta for the hell of it as time ticks by without anything happening other than nights of useless hunting and days of boring sleeping.

Before we go out hunting that fourth night, I continuously tell Cato that it's a waste of effort, and that, if we wait long enough, the other tributes will come to us. Cato only shakes his head at me and picks up his sword before stomping off into the forest, with the rest of us following after him obediently, as always.

"Your boyfriend is crazy," I tell Glimmer as we walk, falling easily into step next to her and slinging an arm around her shoulder. Glimmer slaps it away and glares at me.

"I don't think you have a right to call anyone crazy," she says, infusing her voice with false optimism. "Besides, we will find someone eventually. We _have _to find someone eventually."

And with that we fall into silence. I trudge forward, not expecting to find much of anything, and Glimmer sticks close to me, her distaste with her current situation evident on her face, but Clove and Cato keep to the front of the pack, both of them standing straight and moving forward quickly, still managing some hope of finding another kill, or at least stumbling across a mutt, anything at all to pump some life back into these Games.

There's nothing. We hunt until the sun starts rising, and then Cato lets out an angry curse. I can see that he's just about to suggest we head back to the Cornucopia when the herd of animals comes sprinting past us, causing everyone to jump out of the way in order to avoid getting trampled.

"That's not normal," Peeta says as we watch the deer and other animals hurry by.

"What do you mean it's not normal?" Cato hisses, and that's when the wall of fire comes out of nowhere. All of us stare at it for a second in shock, and then Cato barks, "RUN!"

For once, I've got no qualms about listening to him. As fast I can, I sprint away from the fire, tripping and stumbling over rocks and sticks and making my legs go faster until breathing actually hurts. And it's still not fast enough. The smoke is close enough to make taking in any air at all painful, and I can feel the heat of the flames on the back of my neck.

When the first fireball comes whooshing by and grazes my left arm, I cough out a low hiss and push myself faster because I've never felt anything so painful in my life. Holy freaking hell. _Why _was I complaining about lack of excitement?

Ahead of me, Cato and Clove are pulling away, and Peeta and Glimmer are falling behind. I silently pray that Peeta will get caught up in the fire and satisfy the sadistic Gamemakers, _none_ of whom are going along with the general consensus that I'm too awesome to kill.

Peeta doesn't die, but thankfully I don't either, and pretty soon we stumble into a lake and the fire is gone.

I completely submerge myself in the cool water, ducking my head under and breathing hard as it washes over my burnt arm with a good/bad feeling that's better than the searing pain from before. Never in my _life _have I been hurt so badly. I flex my arm over and over again, not daring to take it out of the water, and screaming out every cuss word I know because it hurts so _damn_ bad.

And then, before I can even really catch my bearings, Cato is shouting, "Did you hear that?"

I shake the water out of my hair and look around, catching the tail end of a tribute limping into the trees. I recognize the dark braid flying behind said tribute instantly. Katniss.

Then I realize something. She has my bow. If Cato sees that she has my bow, he will kill me with his bare hands. Well, and I really don't want to go hunting anyone right now. I feel like shit, and I want to stay in this lake and quit running and _rest_.

I open my mouth to speak, to tell Cato that he's obviously crazy, but then Clove speaks over me and loudly says, "Look, over there! Fire Girl!"

That's all anyone needs to take off out of the river and after Katniss Everdeen. I hesitate for a moment, trying to decide what would happen if I didn't bother going after her and just hung out here. Cato killing me would be a good possibility, and so I drag my tired body out of the water and begin running, mentally cursing with every step I take. I fight back the pain in my arm and smooth out my gait, forcing myself to actually move quickly and not just stumble forward. I _have _to get to Katniss first.

Pretty soon I'm overtaking all of the Careers except for Cato. Both of us catch sight of Katniss just as she's disappearing up a hugely tall tree. She's got her bow looped through her arm and a bright orange backpack on top of it, and I let out a low breath when I realize that Cato doesn't see it.

Katniss ducks up onto a branch way up, and I see very clearly that archery isn't the only thing that she's good at. She's quite the talented little squirrel, just like Rue.

Then, as she fidgets to get a little more comfortable up in her tree, I notice a strange hitch in her movement, something that's not quite right. It takes me a second, but then I realize that she's hurt.

The fire got the Girl on Fire, too.

This notion is strangely troubling to me.

By the time Katniss is situated on her high up branch, the rest of the Careers have joined Cato and me, and all of us are looking up at her like a pack of hungry dogs. I'm actually pretty relieved that the tree she's in has too many close-together branches for her to pull back her bowstring cleanly, because otherwise she'd probably draw the thing and try it.

"How's everything with you?" Katniss calls down to us cheerfully. She's not scared at all. I can see Peeta struggling to keep a straight face, and I don't even bother to hide my smile. I like this girl more and more every time I see her.

"Well enough," says Cato in a voice a lot friendlier than he's ever used towards me. It's fake as hell. "Yourself?"

"It's been a bit warm for my taste. The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up?"

I let out a low chuckle as I let my eyes go all the way up that big tree of hers. None of us are light enough to get up there, except maybe Clove, and I already know there's no way she's going to take up the challenge. I saw her on the climbing equipment in training, and if Katniss is a squirrel, then Clove is a half-drunk gorilla. If they teach climbing in District Two, she was too busy fiddling with her knives to notice.

"I think maybe I will," says Cato. I step back a little and watch him heave himself onto the first branch. He starts off pretty well, I will admit, but after a short while a too-thin branch breaks and he goes crashing to the ground.

_Come on, broken neck, broken neck. _

Cato gets to his feet immediately, cursing like a fiend, and shoots me a dirty glare like this is somehow my fault. Glimmer goes for it next, and I watch amusedly as she makes it just a little farther than Cato before the branches threaten to break and she hurries back down.

"I could shoot her if you hadn't lost my bow," Glimmer says to me icily. I snort at that.

"You could shoot _at _her," I say, "but actually shooting her is beyond your current talent level."

"Oh, shut _up_," Clove says. She takes out a knife and looks up, and I can see her debating whether or not she'll be able to throw it up there and hit Katniss. She obviously sees that it's way too far up because after a moment she shoves the knife back into her belt with an angry squeal.

This leads Cato, Clove, and Glimmer into a short argument concerning our next strategy. I'm worried that anything I say will be constituted as traitorous, and therefore keep my mouth firmly shut.

"Let her stay up there," interrupts Peeta finally. His voice is so careless and gruff that I'm once again impressed at his acting ability. While the idiot trusts much too freely, he is good at making people believe what he wants them to. If I didn't know any better, I would have figured he grew up in District One. "It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning."

"But I'm hungry," Glimmer complains. "And the only food we brought is _wet_."

I realize that this is true. One downside to blindly running into a random lake, I guess.

"We can go one night without eating," Cato says gruffly.

"Yeah," Clove responds, "but so can she. We'll have to _outlast _her. Besides, that little nerd is back there with all our stuff. Do you really trust him overnight? What if he just blows everything up?"

Cato makes a face, but he can see that simply staying under the tree isn't going to work. After a second, he sends Katniss a death glare and turns to his little group of obedient pions.

"Marvel, Clove. You two stay here. Fish-Face, Lover Boy and Glimmer, come with me. We can haul some supplies back here, and I'll leave you-" He jerks his head towards the chick from Four, "-with District Three. You'll keep him in check, won't you?"

She nods emphatically, and after a short amount of protesting from Clove about being left alone with me, Cato and his little crew set off.

I take a seat under a tree across from Katniss's and stare up at her. She looks back at me for a little while, her silver eyes glowing like an animal's in the dim light, but pretty soon a little parachute comes for her and steals her attention. I watch interestedly as she climbs up to untangle it from a distant branch. I can't see what she gets or what she does with it, but I'm guessing that it's some kind of medicine for whatever injuries she got from the fire.

Then she's done with the gift and begins settling in for bed. There's something strange about watching her methodically prepare for the evening, snuggling down into her black sleeping bag and strapping herself into the tree with a couple strands of rope. I almost find it interesting, the way that she does all this like she's been preparing for it her whole life.

"Is watching a girl sit in a tree really _that _fascinating?" Clove asks me icily, pulling my attention away from Katniss. I shrug. It is, surprisingly enough. Must be the pain in my arm messing with my cerebral functionality.

"Yeah, it is. I wish she'd look at me, though. Unrequited love sucks."

Clove snorts and takes out a couple of knives, using one to sharpen the other. This goes on for a very long time, and I keep my spears very close. I'm half-worried that she'll come after me and kill me now if I don't.

She doesn't. Kill me, that is. For a good chunk of time we sit in silence, and then Clove announces that she's going to sleep and curls up into a tiny little ball and closes her eyes. I eye one of my spears speculatively. If I kill her now, I could hide and get a good jump on Cato when he comes back. Somehow, I doubt Peeta will hurt me, and Glimmer couldn't do much damage. My only worry is that it'll be past dark when he comes, and then he'll have seen Clove's pretty little picture in the sky and know that I turned traitor.

Without surprise, I've got nothing on Cato, not in these trees where I can't see far enough to throw my spear from more than five or so feet away. Even I realize that I'd be dead if I tried to attack him from such a close distance.

So no killing Clove. Not yet. I'll have to wait just a little longer, when I can get Cato _first_.

"Is your arm okay?"

I look up and see Katniss Everdeen looking down at me. I figured that she'd gone asleep a while ago, but apparently she's been ogling me instead.

"My arm?" I ask stupidly. I'm kind of shocked that she actually spoke to me, especially with… concern?.. in her voice. I kind of like it. It means that everyone's finally starting to believe my little charade. Even her.

"You're favoring it," Katniss calls down. "Did it get burned?"

"Oh. Well, yeah," I say. Now that she pointed it out, I notice that my arm hurts worse than it did before. I guess I was too lost in thought- there's a first time for everything- to notice before. "I got mauled by a fireball."

Of course, Katniss doesn't give me any of the sympathetic reassurances that the audience is probably hoping for, but a little silver parachute is dropped from the tree, and I find my eyes widening in shock as I jump to my feet and yank the thing out of the air before it falls on Clove's sleeping head.

"Now I owe you _nothing_," says Katniss. I frown. Apparently she's like Rue with that 'owing' stuff. I still don't like the idea of everyone having to be equal. It'd take me fifty years to even come close to paying off all the favors that people have done for me, not to mention all of the making-up I'd have to do to compensate for things I've done _to _them.

"Well, er, I wasn't looking for repayment," I say because it makes me look good. Really, repayment is pretty damn nice. Between the spears and the ointment, I can safely say that ditching that bow was totally worth it.

"Good, because this- me being nice to you- is a one time thing," Katniss says, which is pretty much like saying, "Don't be surprised if I shoot your brains out next time we see each other."

"Alright then," I grin. "Just remember that I'll always love you, no matter what you do to me."

Katniss snorts. I smile and twist open the jar's lid, scooping up some of the medicine onto my fingers and rubbing it gently over my burn. All the heat and pain leave it instantly, and I sigh in relief as the blistery skin smooths out. When I crane my neck to look, my arm doesn't even look like half-cooked hamburger anymore.

I shove the medicine in my backpack with a strangely grateful feeling buzzing through my veins. Grateful to Katniss Everdeen.

"What is Peeta doing with you guys?" Katniss asks once I'm done. I shove her medicine into my bag, narrowing my eyes slightly as I take a millisecond to consider her question.

There's about a twenty percent chance that Peeta could get away from us and tell her what he's actually been doing, in which case Katniss would be pissed at me for lying. Also, the Capitol viewers are all watching this, and every single one of them knows the truth about Bread Boy, and they know that I know the truth about him, too. Therefore, if I lie to my one true love, the more moral of my sponsors would most likely fall away.

I let out a low breath, supposing that I _am_ awesome enough to get myself a woman without slander.

I look at Clove, wave a hand in front of her face to make sure she's actually sleeping hard, and then call up, "Risking his ass to get Cato away from you."

Katniss shifts a little. It's still dim morning, and even with my sunglasses, I can't really make out her face that well. I think she smiles, though, and I can see her shoulders relax. She'd trusted Peeta, and now she's happy that he's still on her side. I grumble a little, much preferring the time when Katniss was pissed at him and saw me as the shining good guy.

"Oh," says Katniss finally. "I thought..."

"That Peeta was an evil slime ball?" I suggest helpfully. "Nah, he's just the unlucky soul who's going to watch me steal your heart."

I smile winningly to emphasize my point, but Katniss only shakes her head.

"You're going to die," she says.

I laugh because I know this isn't true.

"Then we'll live together happily for a few days. I don't need forever, Katniss, no matter how much I want it. I just _need_ enough so that if I have to live without you... if I have to _die _without you, I'll be able to hold your memory in my heart and survive until we can see each other again."

God almighty, am I good.

"I..." Katniss says hesitantly. She blinks several times, and then shortly says, "Thank you for telling me about Peeta, but I have to go... to figure out a way to get out of this tree. Unless you'll just let me leave now?"

"And let Cato kill me for it?" I ask her. I snort. "How about you just shoot him when he comes back, and _then _I'll help you escape."

Katniss shakes her head at me, but I can see that a smile definitely flashes across her face for maybe a millisecond. Then she narrows her eyes, probably reminding herself that I'm an evil, blood-thirsty Career who deserves nothing better than death, and she scrambles farther up her tree.

I stare after Katniss as she goes, thinking that her slow, hesitant smile was one of the brightest things I have ever seen. It's like there's a diamond buried deep underneath everything else, like if she'd just take off her mask, that 'something more' I see in her would break out and I could finally understand what makes Katniss Everdeen tick. I want to keep watching her, to try to catch another glimpse of whatever she's hiding, but I don't. I've got no idea why I'm so fascinated by her, but I've been taught that I'm not supposed to question things that I don't immediately understand, and so I look away after a moment and busy myself with polishing my spears.

Glimmer, Cato and Peeta return soon after. Glimmer is sidling up to Cato, sinking into his side, and Cato has his arm around her waist. He's got Glimmer on one arm and a sword in his free hand, and at one point I catch him giving that sword a look that's a hell of a lot more tender than anything I've ever seen him throwing in Glimmer's direction.

"Is she still up there?" asks Cato without introduction. As he speaks, his eyes land _right on _Katniss.

I snort.

"Nope, that's a clone her sponsors sent in to distract us. Real Katniss ran away when Clove and I were napping." He blinks at me. Glimmer looks like she wants to smack herself in the forehead. Clove actually smirks like she thought it was funny, and Peeta manages a little half smile. "Yes, Cato," I say slowly. "She's still up there."

"Fuck, whenever I think you can't get any stupider," says Cato, "you say shit like that." He appears to be absolutely disgusted. "Go to sleep. Clove? You okay for first watch?"

Clove picks up one of her knives and grins, which everyone takes as an affirmation, and I move off to the side to lay down. I'm still exhausted from working on District Three's mine project all day, so I curl up against a tree and fall asleep pretty quick, my tired body relieved to be able to finally relax.

I don't know how much later it is when I hear someone from somewhere close behind me whisper my name.

* * *

**A/N- **

**We got past a hundred reviews! Thanks so much everyone. Sorry this took a little longer to get up, but this was my last week of school, so pretty much every second of my free time was spent studying for disgusting semester tests and other evil things like that. Anyhow, those are all done now, so I'm finally _free_. Anyhow, I hope you all liked the chapter, and I'm totally looking forward to hearing what you all thought about it. Same preview thing as always, and maybe if you all leave awesome reviews, I'll update again by Monday. **


	8. Tragic and Beautiful

I jerk awake and jump to my feet, automatically reaching for and picking up a spear as I move. None of the other Careers heard whoever it was; they're all sleeping, including whoever was supposed to be keeping watch. I'm assuming that it'd passed to Glimmer's turn, because I know Clove's too anal to make any kind of stupid mistake.

The sun is still high in the sky, but it looks like its more west than straight up. I'd guess it's about one or two, when all of the other tributes would be awake, taking advantage of the fact that the Careers are usually only active at night.

I blink several times and look around, not panicking because I'm not scared. Either I totally imagined the voice, or whoever whispered my name wants me to know that they're here, meaning they don't want to kill me.

That, however, does not mean that _I_ don't want to kill _them_, so I keep my spear up as I search the area, scouring the place for my little buddy's next target.

It's not long before my eyes settle on a tiny figure huddled some ways up in a tree, behind branches and leaves, way too protected for me to hit with a spear. My heart stops for a second when I see little Rue sitting there, her wide eyes focused directly on me, like she's waiting for something.

I stand and face her for a very long time, not daring to move, to do anything. My first instinct is to go after her, but I know that doing so would be completely useless. I can't climb worth shit, and as I mentioned before, the little fart was smart enough to make sure that my spears couldn't reach her. I suppose that a knife would have a small chance of making it through, but I'm sick with the realization that I don't even want to attempt to throw one.

This development is troubling enough that I _do _take out a knife and move like I'm going to chuck it, but Rue shakes her head.

For some reason, I listen to her and drop my arm.

"You should leave," she says. "Get Peeta and go."

"Huh?" I ask, because I honestly don't get what she's talking about.

Then Rue points up into Katniss's tree, where the Girl on Fire has climbed even higher than before. She's up next to a long, thin branch now, sawing away at it for some reason. I stare for a moment, not able to comprehend what in the hell she's doing, but then I look down to the end of the branch and see the tracker jacker nest dangling there.

"She's cutting it down," explains Rue, like I'm too much of a dumbshit to realize this.

I blink.

Who would've thought that Katniss was actually serious about not owing me anything anymore? Some little part of me is impressed that she's ballsy enough to do something like break a tracker jacker nest over the heads of a bunch of big, scary Careers, but the other part is pissed off that she's so two-faced, giving me that medicine and smiling one moment, and then trying to kill me the next. I mean, really? That sounds like shit I would pull.

I let out a low breath and start methodically picking up my things, grabbing one of the packs that Cato picked up from the Cornucopia to make sure I've got some decent food with me. I'll have to wait until the last second and not run until the thing has actually fallen- Cato would tear me apart if he figured out I knew Katniss was going to cut down the nest but didn't warn him- but I still don't see any harm in being prepared.

Once I've got everything together, I grab a rock and toss it at Peeta, who jumps up and starts to say something. Before he can, I catch his gaze and motion for him to shut up. Then I point at Katniss. Satisfied, Rue scurries away just as Peeta's eyes widen in realization.

I lean back against the tree I had been sleeping against and wait. My eyes flash to Glimmer several times, sleeping close to Cato with her eyes closed, long lashes brushing her cheeks, and I almost go over there and shake her awake. She's so beautiful, so tragic, that it's kind of a waste to not try to save her life.

Then again, playing the hero would just prolong the inevitable.

Glimmer has always known that she would die. I saw it that last day before the Games, when we were talking and she was trying so hard to look tough, but in reality knew as well as I did that Clove or Cato or even I would eventually stab her in the back.

I still feel like I'm doing something wrong. Glimmer would expect me to wake her up.

Maybe she just won't die. Tracker jackers can really screw a person up, but only if their venom is in high doses. Maybe she'll get away. She'd have a better chance if I were to warn her, sure, but I couldn't do that without waking Cato.

Besides, if Glimmer does die, that's one less tribute. One step closer to getting home.

I tear my eyes away and look up. Katniss is almost finished with the tree. The branch is leaning way down, and tracker jackers are buzzing everywhere, probably even stinging her. Peeta and I make eye contact, and I can see that he's worried, that he wants her to stop but knows that she can't.

I hold up three fingers. Slowly lower one. Then one more. Peeta's eyes follow my movement almost religiously. I bring the last finger down just as the nest starts falling, and Peeta takes off. Cato jerks awake and sees me still there, acting like I'm surprised and terrified, and I make eye-contact with him just before I turn and sprint after Peeta.

"Marvel! MARVEL!"

For some _stupid _reason I glance back over my shoulder for a millisecond, for barely long enough to see that Glimmer woke up too slow, that the nest burst almost right by her head, and that now she can't even stand, that she's just reaching out instead, clutching for something to hold on to, pleading for someone to come back and help her. For _me _to come back and help her.

My heart stops and my stomach drops and I tear out of the clearing, running faster than before, _not _looking back. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I shouldn't have even let myself _hope _that Glimmer would live. Why did I let myself believe that?

Why would I _care_ either way?

"MAAARRVEEEELL!"

She's shrieking now, her voice filled with pain, and I hesitate. Me. She's screaming for me when she likes… liked… Cato, and didn't trust anybody. Or at least I figured she didn't.

"God, please! _Marvel_!"

Glimmer wants me to come back. She wants me to save her. I _knew _what was going to happen, I thought about waking her up. She would have trusted me to wake her up. God, I _hate _hindsight.

"MARVEL!"

Cato's catching up to me, and that means the tracker jackers are probably with him, so I keep running, back towards the lake because most muttations don't do water, but I'm not scared anymore. I feel dead. There's something wrong with me. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

"_MAAARRV_…"

Glimmer's cry gurgles off and the cannon boom that follows leaves no question as to why. I get to the lake before the blast even stops echoing. My head buzzes as I take a moment to dump my things in the grass, and I'm so distracted that I stumble into the lake rather than jump.

Why didn't Glimmer scream for Cato? For… I don't know, Peeta? Why did she have to give me that stupid sign that she trusted me? I've never _wanted _her trust.

Why didn't I just wake her up? I was going to. I should have.

I break the surface of the lake and take a deep breath. This is one of those times when I need to think rationally. Glimmer was half dead anyway. Her life was nothing, not even to her.

One second passes. Two. I calm down enough to remember what Glimmer said to me before, about Cashmere trying to portray her as a ditzy slut so that guys would sponsor her, guys who would expect her services after the Games.

Glimmer's life would have been hell even if she would have won. I did her a favor.

I let out a low breath and look around. Of course, Cato and Clove both survived, but they're definitely suffering from the venom, both of them thrashing in the water and swatting at things that only they can see.

When my eyes move to Peeta, I see that he's hauling himself out of the lake. It doesn't take me long to figure out where he's going. He wants to find Katniss. To make sure she's okay. I pull myself together and trudge back to shore, taking a second to catch my breath, and then calling for him to wait.

Peeta stops.

"Let me go," I breathe, already scooping up my spears and the pack that I left in the grass. I don't know why, but I want to go back. Not to Katniss, but to Glimmer. To her body, before the hovercraft comes for it. Peeta must see something in my eyes, because he backs off and nods, gesturing for me to go for it. I jog back into the forest, keeping an eye open for any stray tracker jackers, but they've all cleared out. Gone or dead.

Before long, I recognize a familiar break in the trees and a second later I'm back at the base of the tracker jacker tree. Glimmer is still there, or at least what's left of her is.

Her body is swollen and purple, her usually perfect skin marred with dark lines of black and blue, the rest of it pale enough that it disgusts even me. Everything is swollen to the point where she'd probably be squishy if I happened to poke her, and her enticing emerald eyes have lost all of their color, now haunting instead of captivating.

It's messed up, that everything about her up until now has been pristine and beautiful, but her death is the most ugly, messed up, unromantic thing I have ever seen.

I should have woken her up. Even if I would have just stabbed her as soon as we got to safety, she could have died beautiful.

For a long time, I stare at Glimmer, forgetting about my promise to check on Katniss, not remembering that I'm not supposed to care about any of these tributes. Glimmer was a bitch and a murderer and a whore, but _this_… somehow I can regret this, that her death was so painful and ugly and just... terrible, really.

Then again, I suppose that this _is_ her fault. She could have trained to be stronger, faster, better. She could have changed things, made herself something other than what she was, but she never did. Glimmer brought this on herself.

I kneel down next to Glimmer and brush her hair out of her swollen face. Beautiful, but now dead and no longer useful. Only lingering for a moment, I grab the sword from her belt and a couple knives she had on her, and then stand up. Cato will be getting his bearings back pretty soon, and if he notices that I've run off, he'll come after me. For a second I'm tempted to ignore Katniss and just tell Peeta that she's fine, but for some reason I think of her last night, giving me that medicine. The least I can do is make sure she's okay.

I stand up and brush my hands off on my pants. Glimmer's disturbingly grotesque form garners one last look, and then I back away, trying not to think that my name was the last thing that she ever said, trying to ignore the way that it still hangs in the air, a single plea that I'm never going to get the chance to go back and answer.

It only takes me a second to figure out which way Katniss went. She must have taken in more venom than I thought, because I know that there's no way she would have left such an ugly trail otherwise. There are torn branches and trampled leaves everywhere, and I only have to jog for a minute or so before I almost run over Katniss Everdeen.

She's already unconscious, her eyes closed and her breaths coming out in frantic pants. I stop a few feet away from her, looking at the big lumps scattered across her body and the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. Hurting and killing is my thing, so I haven't got a chance in hell of actually _healing_ her, but I do stare for a few moments, trying to figure out how I can make myself look intelligent and loving.

Finally I decide that it's probably best to just check her vitals and leave her where she is. She'll be vulnerable, but like with Glimmer, I've got to remember that her death is inevitable. Katniss isn't me, and therefore she won't get out of this arena in anything other than a casket. It's just how things are going to be this year.

Cautiously, I nudge Katniss with the toe of my boot, still holding out my spear in case she really isn't unconscious. She doesn't move, so I kick her harder. This time she groans a little, but doesn't wake up. Huh. I guess the venom really did knock her out.

I set my spear down, then, and kneel next to her, eyeing this girl who is completely at my mercy. She's curled up in on herself like a little kid, and her relatively small stature only emphasizes how helpless she is right now. So small, so human, and so… different.

Normally, I like killing things that are small and helpless because, as far as I'm concerned, anything that can't take care of itself doesn't _deserve _to live. This is different, though. I don't want to kill Katniss. I don't know what I _do _want to do with her, but sending a spear through her heart isn't it. My original plan, the one that involves _helping _her, is definitely closer to the mark, so I go back to that.

As I previously mentioned, I'm no healer or doctor or anything of the sort. My first thought is that I should probably yank the stingers out, but I heard somewhere that there are some kinds of wounds where you should just leave the thing in. I mean, if it was a sword or arrow or something, I'd just grab and pull. There's no way anyone would want to leave one of those things in their body.

Tracker jacker stings are trickier. Maybe moving them would like… release more poison or something. I don't know. This is why everyone from District One needs to look pretty to get sponsors. We aren't taught any of this other shit.

I run a hand through my hair, internally going over my options. Finally I decide to just go for it and take one out. Almost cautiously, I pinch a stinger in between my fingers and pull. The skin has swollen around it a bit, but it comes out easily enough, and Katniss doesn't die. Good. I move to pluck out another one, but freeze mid-motion when I hear the sound of something stumbling through the trees.

I'm pretty sure that it's a muttation the size of an elephant, and so I forget about Katniss and pick up a spear, hopping to my feet in the same motion and getting set to throw. Whatever it is doesn't sound friendly at all.

Then Cato bursts through the trees, waving his sword and looking half ready to pass out.

He's still a _lot _scarier than an unfriendly elephant muttation.

Cato's eyes land on me instantly, and then they move to Katniss. Back and forth, comprehending what's going on even through the tracker jacker venom.

This is _not _good.

What was Peeta thinking, letting Cato come after me like this? Didn't he realize that Cato would see me as a traitor if he caught me helping Katniss?

"Wha- what are you… what are you _doing_?" slurs Cato, and even though he isn't all there, I can see that he's pissed off beyond belief. "KILL HER!"

Let's see...

The biggest asshole on the face of the planet is standing in front of me, doped up on tracker jacker venom and waving his sword around like he's completely plastered.

The single person in the Career pack who would even think about standing up for me is dead (Peeta's too useless to count).

I've got the 'love' of my lying at my feet, her pretty face more or less screaming 'Sponsor magnet! Sponsor magnet!"

I don't take half a second to decide on my next move. Cato must see it in my eyes, because he slashes at me with his sword as I pull my arm back to throw my spear at him. He misses, but I have to jerk out of the way, and my throw goes off center, grazing his right arm instead of piercing his heart. I don't turn to see how much damage it does, nor do I waste any time throwing another one. Instead, I scoop up a thankfully light Katniss Everdeen and toss her over my shoulder, only taking a second to grab her silver bow before turning and stumbling off in an awkward run.

I don't hear Cato following me, so I know he's not there. He couldn't move quietly, not with how messed up that venom has him. I still keep jogging forward for a while, but I've never pretended to to be super strong or powerful, and Katniss starts getting heavy after a mile or so.

I stop and set Katniss on the ground, taking a few seconds to catch my breath as what just went down starts sinking in. Glimmer dying sucked, but this is a million times more terrible. Losing the protection of the Career pack within five days of the start of the Games is the worst thing I could have done, made _worser_ because I didn't take Cato out before I ran off. Now nothing is stopping him from coming after me, and he's going to be even more determined than before.

If it were just Cato against me, I'd be good with some huge showdown between the two of us. Really. But he's got Clove, the chick from Four, and nerd boy all with him yet, while I've got an unconscious girl from District Twelve. Bow or no bow, the thing is pretty useless if she's not awake to use it.

And to think, it was only a day ago that I was complaining about boredom.

I shake my head and try to stay optimistic. I've got some quality time with the Girl on Fire. I am no longer Cato's bitch. I don't have a single tracker jacker sting thanks to little Rue, and…

A head of frizzy black hair bounces in front of me, and any optimism that I'd been holding onto dissolves completely. I curse myself for being such a moron.

While I was sitting on a rock and being exhausted, Rue was sneaking up at me, no doubt completely aware that both of my remaining spears are strapped onto my backpack. I've got no weapons, no shields, _nothing_, and there's a freaking midget standing in front of me with a slingshot.

"Rue," I say. I grin and manage to look like I mean it.

"Marvel," she says, smiling sweetly. It looks genuine enough, but if she's _anything _like Brianna, I've got a good idea what's behind that candy cane smile.

Warily, I eye that slingshot of hers, trying to determine how much damage a rock to the head would cause me. An old story comes to mind, one that they'd tell the skinnier, little kids back in District One to boost their confidence. David and Goliath, I think it was called. From what I can remember, it was about some little shit who took out a giant with a slingshot.

I look at Rue again and decide to stay put.

"If _you_ kill me with _that_," I say smoothly, hoping that she'll let me talk her out of killing me, "I hope you realize that my family would be too ashamed to go outside for several weeks. I swear-"

Then, to my shock, Rue lowers the slingshot and laughs a tinkly little-girl laugh that has me looking at her in absolute confusion.

"I won't kill you," says Rue. She adjusts a little bag she's got thrown over her shoulder and sticks the slingshot into it, beaming widely. I'm almost too flabbergasted to breathe, my eyes slowly widening as she digs around in her bag a little more, pulls out some leaves, and sticks them in her mouth, chewing heartily Then she takes a seat next to Katniss, crossing her legs and taking the time to pull out a stinger before spitting the leaf into her hands and rubbing it across the swollen red bump. "I was just making sure that you weren't going to hurt me. See, I _like _you, but I don't really trust you very much. You won't kill me now, though. I can tell."

"I... I… prove it," I stutter, because really I can't make my brain work well enough to say anything else. Rue could have probably killed me, humiliating as it is to think, but didn't. It's the Hunger Games, and she didn't kill me. Now she's sitting here, spitting leaves on Katniss Everdeen and chatting me up like we're at afternoon tea.

I don't _get _it.

"I'm not dead, am I?" asks Rue, jerking her head towards the bag at my feet, the one with the spears tied to it. She's right. I would have had plenty of time to grab one and kill her with it after she put her slingshot away. I just didn't.

"I'm tired," I respond. "I'll get around to slitting your throat in a little bit."

Rue laughs again, turning away from Katniss to look more closely at me.

"I don't know. See, I kind of think that we should make an alliance. Me, you, and Katniss."

I laugh.

"Rue," I say, "do you have any idea what that would _look _like? Me and… you two. Katniss is one thing, but…"

"Things don't always have to look good to work good," argues Rue. "I can't protect myself, not from Cato or Clove, or even you, really, and neither can Katniss right now, so you'll help us with that."

"Usually more than one person benefits from an alliance," I remind her, not liking the way this is going at all. It's like Rue thinks that I'm running a poorhouse for ratty, ill-bred girls who drop freaking tracker jacker nests on my district partner's head.

"Katniss has her bow," Rue reminds me, which is true. "I've been watching her, and she can shoot _really _well. She'll help us get food. I can help with that, too."

Shit. Food. Right.

"Okay," I say, squeezing my eyes shut before opening them again, keeping my smile on my face and my tone light, but suddenly feeling very, very tired, and a lot more useless than I'd like. "I need you for food, and I'm not leaving Katniss out of this. So fine. We're allies, partners, whatever."

Rue grins. This has got to be heaven for her, two of the strongest allies in the Games and a sliver of a chance at winning that she didn't have before.

Her smile almost makes me feel like smiling back, and I get _very _close to doing just that when she says, "I told you that I knew you were different. Remember, in training? I could tell."

I grimace and pretend not to hear her, not bothering to say anything. It's been a while since I've actually slept well, and right now I'm not in the mood to talk. All I want is to rest. Maybe that'll help me forget that my only conscious ally is twelve years old and the size of my right leg.

"You... keep watch. Scream if someone comes by, I guess. No one should."

Rue bites her lip, but nods. I can see that she wants to say something, but I don't think she will. I dig a sleeping bag out of my pack and lay it next to where Katniss is sprawled out, then shimmy into it and close my eyes, halfway to sleep before she finally decides to say, "You're sad."

"I don't get sad," I reply, turning my back to her so that she's not looking at me anymore.

"I think that Glimmer really liked you," Rue says sagely. I hear her feet whispering against the grass, and then she's sitting next to me, leaning against my back just like she did in training, like she likes being so close to me. I can feel her shoulders moving a little as she gets comfortable, and then her head resting up by my shoulder, a few strands of frizzy hair brushing my neck. "She looked more relaxed around you. You do that to people, you know. Make them relax."

I have no comment, so I keep my mouth shut.

"But I'd rather have you win than her. Although I want Katniss to win more than you. She's nicer. I wish everyone could get out, though. None of us really deserve to die."

I'm so tired that I'm already half asleep before Rue says that last line, so her words are foggy and indistinct. I fall asleep struggling to comprehend what she was saying.

* * *

**A/N- **

**I just heard that my Lit teacher passed away this evening from cancer. She was like... this amazing, inspiring woman who was one of the most awesome, truly _good_ people I have ever met. She got me really into writing and helped me take off with it, so I'm dedicating this chapter, and actually now, this story from here on out, to her. **

**I couldn't help but put that in there, but less seriously now, I hope everyone liked the chapter. It was a little more action-filled, anyway, so _hopefully _that means more reviews. I've got state track this weekend, but with a little motivation I might get a chapter up before I leave Thursday. Thanks for the reviews in advance, and for the ones last chapter, and keep it up. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	9. More Than Tributes

"Marvel, wake up."

I yawn and slowly open my eyes, squinting a little when I realize that the sun is already shining. Shit, I must have slept forever. Why hasn't Cato started screaming-?

My eyes focus a bit and I realize that Rue is kneeling in front of me, her enormous eyes level with mine, about two inches away, and her lips curved up into a small smile, revealing unfathomably white teeth.

Frick. Right. Cato caught me helping Katniss, I was forced to run off, and Rue held me at slingshot-point until I assented to forming an alliance with her out of the goodness of my heart. Which explains why I wasn't on watch duty several hours ago. Little Rue apparently knows her place, and fully realizes that I, as the leading power of this operation, deserve the most sleep.

"Yeah?" I ask, blinking several times as I sit up. I notice that Katniss hasn't managed to duck the effects of the venom yet. She's still tossing and turning, although I will admit that she is definitely not looking as hellish as she had before. Her face has more color in it, and she's in good enough shape that even I can tell she has to be pretty close to waking up.

"I need to sleep," says Rue, tearing my attention away from Katniss. She yawns super big, her tongue sticking out as she does so, like she's some kind of cat, and then adds, "Just for a few hours. Then we'll get some food."

"What about Katniss?" I ask, nudging the Girl on Fire with the toe of my boot. She fidgets a little, but doesn't wake up.

"She's doing a whole lot better," says Rue. "Her heartbeat is steadier now, and I think the venom is almost all out of her system. You don't need to worry about her too much."

"Great," I say. I wasn't _really _going to worry anyway. I just didn't want Katniss to die and leave me with Rue as my only ally. I climb to my feet, a little unsteadily at first because my legs are sore from so much running yesterday. "I suppose you can take a nap now, as long you make it quick."

Rue makes a very Breeze-like face at me, but doesn't say anything as she burrows into _my _sleeping bag- without permission- and closes her eyes, clutching the fabric close up to her chest like littler kids do sometimes.

Apparently she doesn't know her place quite as well as I thought she did.

I _almost _kick Rue out and tell her to sleep on the ground, but something tells me that she would tell Katniss about it as soon as the other girl woke up. I really don't think that bullying a twelve-year-old girl would really raise Katniss's already extremely low opinion of me.

Rue starts snoring softly after just a few minutes, and then I'm left sitting by myself with absolutely nothing to do. After a bit, I take out a knife and start throwing it at a tree, but I'm not Clove and therefore don't get any kind of creepy, unnatural pleasure out of the activity. I contemplate doing some target practice with my spears, but decide not to on the off chance that I'd wind up damaging one of them.

I start pacing, then. I don't want to sit and think, firstly because thinking really isn't that exciting, and secondly because I don't want my brain to settle on anything that it shouldn't. Namely, Glimmer. I still don't feel right about her death, and I don't even want to know _why _I'm having a problem with it, so I keep moving, doing my best not to let my thoughts focus on anything in particular.

After a bit, I get bored of pacing and grab my backpack, digging out a packet of jerky. I take out a single piece, then plop down in between Rue and Katniss's sleeping bags and settle in for a nutritious afternoon snack.

I'm just about to take a bite of the jerky when Katniss Everdeen suddenly spazzes into a sitting position. She doesn't see me right away and takes about two seconds to pant frantically, but then common sense takes over and she instinctively starts looking around, taking in her surroundings.

The first thing that she sees is me, sitting about a foot away from her. My deepest hope is that she'll remember me giving her the bow and trust me to be friendly, but that's apparently too much to ask for. I see her eyes frantically flash to the bow that's nestled up next to my pack, and I jump at her before her probably still muddled brain can even process the possibility of reaching for it.

I land on top of Katniss's legs, effectively keeping her from squirming away. She screams something terrible, kicking at my arms and chest and struggling to get free. Grunting as she connects a foot soundly with my stomach, I crawl up a little more, pinning down her legs and grabbing both of her wrists tightly in my hands to keep her from doing something drastic, such as clawing my eyes out. Thankfully, I'm heavy enough that she can't get any limbs free to punch or kick me, and even though she struggles, I'm pretty confident I've got her trapped.

"Katniss," I pant. "Calm down."

Katniss responds by jerking her head back and bashing my nose in. I curse and reflexively reach for it when I feel blood start to flow, and she takes the opportunity to wriggle free and make another grab for the bow.

I blindly reach out and close a hand around one of her skinny ankles at the last second. Katniss stumbles and I yank her back in my direction, sending her falling right on top of me. Before she can scramble away, I get a hold of both of her arms and twist them lightly behind her back, not enough to hurt, but so that she can't do anything with them. She still kicks a little bit, but I bend her arms back further when she struggles, and eventually Katniss goes limp with a frustrated breath.

"There," I say in relief, not relaxing my grip for even a second. "Now that you're being reasonable, I'll just say that we're in an alliance now. You missed the memo."

Katniss's eyes narrow, and she begins to say something when I hear someone else come up behind me.

"It was my idea," Rue says. Huh. Funny that she would wake up so soon. And here I figured I was being quiet. "He really is telling the truth."

"Rue?" Katniss asks. I can see that she's surprised, but I also know that, with Rue here, she won't try any funny stuff. I let her go, and Katniss doesn't even look at me as she rubs her wrists a little, still staring at the younger girl in shock. "What are _you_ doing with _him_?"

"Marvel saved you," Rue says with wide, innocent eyes, making it sound like she sees me as her hero or something. I wipe at the blood that's been dribbling out of my nose, but it accomplishes nothing. It's all over my jacket, and actually pooling a little next to my feet. "Cato came after you when you were unconscious, and Marvel threw a spear at him, picked you up, and ran away with you. Then I found him and we talked for a bit, and since Cato isn't going to let him back with the Careers anymore, we figured that we could all make our own alliance."

Katniss shakes her head.

"That doesn't make sense."

"God, I love you, okay? That explains absolutely everything," I say, trying to sound like I mean it. "Now, if I could have some _help_-"

Rue and Katniss both really look at me for the first time, noticing the unhealthy amount of blood that is now _all over me. _Rue immediately turns and starts rifling through my first aid kit.

Katniss grimaces the smallest amount and quietly says, "Sorry. I woke up and saw a Career, and I just figured that you were trying to kill me. I didn't think…"

"Hey," I tell her, going for a grin but grimacing when blood gets into my mouth. I cough and take a few seconds to spit it out, then continue, "It's fine, really. Just a broken nose. If anything, it'll help my social life. You know, tone my prettiness down just enough so that not _everyone _is jealous of me."

Katniss opens her mouth like she doesn't know what to say, but Rue chooses that moment to rejoin the conversation, unhelpfully pointing out, "It's not broken. If it was, it would be too swollen for so much blood to be coming out. And, just saying… I don't think you're _that _handsome."

I grab the roll of cloth that Rue had been holding out to me and meaningfully ask, "Then what's up with you and snuggling up to me?" I dab at my nose a little with the cloth and make a face. I think Rue's wrong about it not being broken. It hurts like hell. "If it's not my irresistible good looks, what is it? Do I smell good? Is it my body? My... my, um, _grass _green eyes_?" _

Rue elbows me in the ribs, but she's smiling.

"You have a high opinion of yourself, don't you?"

"It's not like I don't have a reason for it," I say back. I see Katniss watching the two of us with a strange look on her face, like she's not quite sure what's going on, and I realize that she actually looks kind of out of place. I guess it has to be jarring, passing out with no allies and waking up into… whatever Rue and I have going for us. Trying to calm her down a bit, I take a step in her direction and make an effort to include her in our conversation, "What's your opinion on this matter, Firegirl? On a scale of one to ten, what am I? An eleven? Twelve? Eighty three and a half?"

Katniss blushes and shakes her head, not saying anything and definitely not looking at me.

"Alright," I continue, "maybe an eight right now, but that's with the blood and dirt all over my face. I'll ask you again after I get cleaned up. Oh, and speaking of the blood, I think you owe me something. You've ruined my jacket and messed up my pretty face. I'm almost positive that I deserve some sort of recompense for that."

"What?" asks Katniss. She turns defensive. "I apologized. I can't really give you anything else."

"You could kiss me," I offer, tilting my head down towards her a little. "Right on the lips. It's the least you could do, really."

Katniss looks up. Her eyes aren't very far from mine, and I can see that they aren't straight silver like I'd always figured. They've got some darker slate gray in them, and even little flecks of blue. It's a cheesy, romantic thing to notice, but I guess it's not totally out of the question for me to be getting a little bit _too _in character. My head is just so focused on being in 'love Katniss' mode that things like the color of her eyes stand out more than they would otherwise.

That's _obviously _what it is.

"You've got blood all over your teeth," Katniss says, her voice managing to stay distant even though her face is red and it looks like she's forcing herself to stay this close to me, to not back off, which I'm sure she would consider cowardly.

I shrug and bar my teeth at her anyway, jokingly saying, "I know people in District One who would find this attractive."

Rue sighs from beside me and latches onto my arm.

"Come on, Finnick Odair. Katniss _just _woke up, and you really need to get all that blood off your face. You're going to scare away your sponsors."

I laugh, but I do feel absolutely disgusting, so I let Rue drag me off to a stream that runs a little ways away from where we're staying. We don't say much as we walk, and I keep a spear up because it would be stupid not to. The mood is actually relatively light, despite all this. Rue is smiling like she just got done with some kind of sentimental family gathering, and even I'm feeling a lot lighter than I have in a while.

Once we get to the stream, I peel off my coat and boots, then take the time to take off my belt of knives and set my spear behind those, all while keeping the cloth over my nose so I don't get blood everywhere.

After everything that shouldn't get wet has been removed from my person, I step into the stream and duck my head under the current. The moving water gets most of the blood off of my face, and I only have to scrub for a few moments before I'm pretty much clean. I tear off several pieces of cloth and jam them up my nostrils when I resurface, to keep any extra blood from flowing. Then, just to be thorough, I peel off my shirt and start rinsing the blood off of that in the cool water, all while Rue watches silently from her perch next to the stream, her slingshot in one hand on the off chance that an unfriendly tribute stumbles across us.

Her eyes are drooping so badly that I don't think she'd take note of a rabid elephant until it was right on top of her.

"You look tired," I comment as I crawl back to shore, shaking my hair dry and wiping at my face with the lining of my jacket. The jacket smells terrible, and I cringe a little when I realize that I've gone almost a week without a shower… or brushing my teeth. I'm thankful that everyone else no doubt stinks too badly to notice. "Katniss woke you up before you could get much sleep."

"I'll rest a little once we get back," Rue shrugs. She doesn't seem too upset about it. "It's fine."

"Alright then," I say. I shrug back into my shirt, I'm sure to the dismay of every female in Panem, and refasten my belt around my waist, counting each of my knives to make sure I didn't drop any. "As long as you're okay."

Rue smiles as she gets to her feet, picking up my spear and handing it to me as she says, "I'm good." She stops and thinks for a moment. "And, if you're wondering, this is why I like getting so close to you."

"Huh?"

"The question you asked earlier," said Rue, "When you were teasing me about having a crush on you. I don't like cuddling with you because of that. I like it because you're so… I don't know."

I smirk at her.

"I don't know, huh? That's helpful," I say. I toss my jacket over my shoulder and start walking, Rue right beside me. She takes such quick little steps that she doesn't have to rush at all to keep up with my long strides.

"Oh, I mean…" Rue scrunches her face in thought, then explains, "You act like I think an older brother would; teasing me, smiling all the time, and sometimes even being… concerned, like you just were." She smiles a little and looks down at her feet. "It makes me feel safe. Maybe it's not so smart, but I like it when you mess around with me like that. It's like... like _someone _here can protect me."

My step falters a little bit and I have to physically remind myself to keep walking.

"Rue…" I say hesitantly. "That's, that's…"

She doesn't say anything or provide any fill-in terms for me, which is unfortunate because I can't make my brain work well enough to actually come up with a complete sentence.

Alright, I fully realize that I've compared Rue to Brianna since the first time I saw her, but I didn't even realize that I was actually _treating _her like Brianna, not until now. I've been bickering, and teasing, and acting overly protective to the little fart without even _realizing _it, and now she looks up to me and sees me as some… older brother figure, like I'm actually some kind of good person that she would _want _as a brother.

"That's a _terrible _idea," I finally stutter out. "You're already smarter than me, and better than me, and generally just… not the kind of person who should look up to someone like… _me, _quite frankly."

"Why not?" asks Rue.

"Because," I sigh, running a hand through my hair, "I'm not like Katniss. I won't die so you can live, and I wouldn't die for my real sister either. Fuck, I suppose that I _will_ protect you, but only as long as it doesn't inconvenience me."

"Marvel," says Rue. She grabs onto my free hand and holds it tightly, and, to my surprise, I don't feel compelled to make her let go. Big brown eyes look up at me solemnly, _just _like Brianna's green ones, and she continues, "I don't _want_ you to die for me. Remember last night, when I mentioned not wanting anyone to die, but hoping you and Katniss make it home more than anyone else? I didn't talk about myself at all, did I?"

I blink several times, because Rue is right. There wasn't a single time in our short conversation that she mentioned her own name.

"No, but…"

"I want to go home. God, I really, really do, but… if I do win, I'm going to go back to District Eleven and just… live there. I'm nothing special. Just a little girl. But Katniss is the Girl on Fire, and you're the guy who the Capitol _loves_ enough to spend ridiculous amounts of money on, more than they did for Finnick Odair, even."

"So?" I ask. She might as well be speaking gibberish to me, even though whatever she's excited about has her skipping more than walking, has her brown eyes practically glowing with enthusiasm.

"Isn't it obvious?" asks Rue. "You and Katniss, you two are _more _than just tributes. Everyone loves both of you." She pauses a moment, and then adds, "And Marvel? About you not being a person to look up to? I think you're wrong."

I cough. Not like I'm not used to hearing about my awesomeness, but… something about the way Rue says it, like she's convinced that I'm the greatest thing in the world… it absolutely kills me inside. I don't even know why, but _this_, what I've got with this little girl who actually _looks up to me_, it's something that I stupidly don't want to lose.

Something that I know is going to fall in billions of little pieces very, very soon.

"I should kill you now," I say, looking Rue right in the eye. "Because you're doing a very good job at making me not want you to die at all."

Rue looks down at her feet, and when I look more closely, I see that her eyes are watering with tears.

"Is it stupid, for me to hope that somehow we'll all get out of here together?" she asks softly.

"Extremely," I reply, and I almost regret how callous I sound. We get back to our clearing before I can dwell on it too much, though, and Katniss is waiting there, her bow up and ready at the sound of our footsteps.

Katniss lowers it when she sees that it's just Rue and me, but her eyes narrow the second that she notices that Rue is crying. It's almost funny, how fast that bow goes up again, pointed right at my nose.

"No, no, Katniss," Rue says quickly, rushing over to the Girl on Fire and tugging the bow down gently. "It's…not Marvel." She yawns. "I think we should eat now. Then I can rest a little, and… I don't know. We'll do something then."

"Do I need to hunt?" asks Katniss. I'd almost say that she _wants _to go find something to shoot, but I shake my head emphatically, not big on the idea of eating anything fresh enough that I'd have to worry about whether or not it's completely dead. I'll refrain from eating fresh game until the last possible second.

"Nope, I've got some soup packets, and dried fruit, and jerky all right in here," I say, kicking the pack that I'd stolen from Cato. Katniss kneels down and grabs it, pulling out each article of food one by one. Rue grabs a canteen and volunteers to get water for the soup. I think she just wants to get away, so that she can be upset for a little bit without everyone freaking out about it.

Or at least that's what Brianna would have done. Gotten away so people wouldn't fall over themselves trying to comfort her when she could take care of herself just fine.

A part of me does want to go after Rue, but I really do think that she wants to be alone, so I stay right where I am. After a moment, I make the very romantic move of digging the pieces of cloth out of my nostrils and tossing them into the trees, then exhaling fast to get all of the extra blood out. It's stopped flowing, thankfully, and there isn't even that much clogged up in my sinuses. When I'm finished, I wipe off the last of the blood on the back of my hand and turn back to Katniss, who is shaking her head at me just the smallest amount.

"What?" I ask, ambling over to her. I don't know why. I'm not trying to be a creepy predator or anything, but I just like being close to Katniss Everdeen, strange as that sounds. "You're the reason the blood is there in the first place, and you _still_ haven't kissed me to make up for it. It'll be the experience of a lifetime, you know, kissing a guy as attractive as myself."

"I just watched you fire _blood _out of your nose," Katniss replies archly, her eyes narrowing as I step closer. "It would actually take me a while to think of something _less _attractive."

I stop a foot or so away from her and shake my head, unable to hold back an amused laugh. It's the first thing I've ever heard Katniss Everdeen say that has some of her actual spirit behind it, and I realize that I wish she'd make comments like that a _lot _more often.

"I think you're spending too much time around me." I smirk. "You're already getting into the habit of making amusing, smartass comments."

Katniss isn't able to keep her smile completely off her face at that, but it isn't two seconds before she realizes what she's doing and rearranges her features back into her usual blank scowl.

"I don't think that you're rubbing off on me, so much as making the comments necessary in the first place," Katniss says.

I laugh again.

"That's something _else _I would say," I point out. "Although perhaps not so seriously, or with that ugly look that you've got on your face. If you really want to be like me, you've got to put more feeling behind it. Maybe a smile, too. Yes, definitely a smile. God knows that yours are _nearly _as beautiful as mine, and I don't even think I've seen a real one yet."

Katniss stares at me for a long moment, then shakes her head, like she can't believe that I'm actually acting like… well, myself, in the middle of the Hunger Games.

Rue chooses that moment to return with the water, and I can actually see Katniss visibly sigh in relief as she goes over to help Rue get the soup packets going.

Once supper is all made up and we're gathered in a circle, snacking on our meal, Rue says, "I bet the Careers are going to hunt again tonight, and we aren't that far away from where we saw them last."

"We'll hear them coming," I snort. "Believe me. Cato has a thing for hyena laughing at anything that Clove says, and, anyway, I wouldn't even bank on them going out tonight. Both of the District Two tributes took more of that poison than Katniss did, and although God isn't smiling on us quite brightly enough to have them die from it, I doubt that they're in any shape to come looking for us."

This information is digested for a bit, and then Katniss says, "Still… even if we do spend the night here, we'll have to do something before too long. The Gamemakers won't just let us stay here until everyone else dies. We'll either go after the Careers, or…"

"Something will _force _us after them," Rue finishes. She's in a better mood now, not so sad. It's surprising, how interested she actually looks to be in going after the Careers. I'd almost say that she's pumped up for it.

"So, what?" I ask. "We'll ambush them… set up traps… something like that. It's not like we're strong enough to take them on head to head."

Katniss opens her mouth like she's going to speak, takes another moment to think, and then says, "You're right. We _can't _attack them, not directly. They've only got one weakness that I can think of off the top of my head, and that would be that I doubt any of them can find their own food."

"Yeah, but they kind of have huge mountain of supplies that'll feed them for at least a month, and there's no way the Games will go on for that long," I point out.

"We could destroy their supplies," tries Rue.

I snort and shake my head.

"No, we couldn't. Cato got Nerd Boy from District Three to reactivate the mines that had been installed around the launch pads. Everywhere within ten feet of those supplies is _mined_. There's no way we could destroy…"

I trail off because Katniss and Rue are looking at me like I'm an absolute moron.

"Why does it feel like I'm missing something?" I ask.

"Marvel," says Rue, her voice slow, like she's talking to an invalid, "has it ever occurred to you that people aren't the _only _things those mines could destroy?"

...

**A/N- **

**I did mean to get this up before my track meet, but I wound up busier than I'd expected, and then once I did get back super late on Sunday night, I spent much of my free time messing with my new iphone (Siri is totally better than _any _app), and reading one of the many books I just received from Barnes and Noble. Anyhow, I figured that I procrastinated too long already, so I kicked it into gear and spent most of today finishing up this chapter.**

**Your reviews were all awesome, by the way. Your little comments about my lit teacher were all sweet and really great, and I really, really appreciate all of them. Thanks for everything you guys said about the story, too. All of it was super-flattering. To Lola, who is anonymous and I cannot PM, I did mean 're-telling' in the loosest possible way. I probably should have put 'AU' or something instead, because, while the story is about the 74th Hunger Games, it's definitely not going to be the same as the first time around, just to clear that up. _  
_**

**Alright, this is getting super long now, so I'll just leave you with a quick plea to review. This is some of the first _real _Katniss/Marvel interaction, so I'd love to hear what y'all think about it. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	10. We Gon' Light It Up

Alright. Maybe Cato, and Glimmer, and Gloss, and my mother, and…well, everyone, really, weren't _completely _off in thinking I was an idiot. Actually, I probably should have thought about the mine thing the second that Rue suggested an alliance, because the idea _was _kind of obvious. Live explosives in the arena? What purpose could they possibly serve beyond pissing off Cato?

The three of us get something like a plan laid out as we finish eating. I, surprisingly, remember that Nerd Boy spaced the mines out and wired them up all independently of one another. In other words, blowing up one mine won't do anything except send Cato rushing back to camp, waving a sword or a mace and thirsting for my blood.

This problem stumps all of us. Katniss thinks that setting off two or three mines would most likely get the rest to explode, but, depending on how heavy the impact needs to be, even that could prove to be a pain in the ass.

Finally, Rue yawns big and says, "I _really _need to sleep. You guys can finish figuring stuff out. Marvel, you don't think Cato will be hunting tonight?"

I shrug.

"No, not really." I think a second. "Then again, I also thought it'd be impossible to destroy those supplies, and _that_ definitely wasn't the world's most intelligent conjecture." Katniss and Rue both look concerned, but I quickly add, "But I think I'm right this time. Clove is smaller than Katniss, and she took a lot more venom. There's no way that Cato would go hunting without his mini-me."

"We'll keep watch, anyway," Katniss assures Rue, really not sounding confident in me at all. It's because she hasn't seen Cato and Clove together. I got a full five days of watching them finish each other sentences and telling kill stories like a pair of demented siblings. My allies would be much more convinced of Cato's staying put if they realized that he classified Clove as an excessively dangerous weapon, and therefore loved her nearly as much as he loved himself. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"You're sure?" asks Rue. "Because I could stay awake a little longer…" She has to stop and yawn. A sheepish smile stretches across her lips, but she still looks almost disappointed in herself. The girl who stayed up for twenty hours, so I could get extra rest. Yeah, what a wimp. "Actually, maybe I do need to sleep. Just for a little bit."

"We'll be fine. Katniss and I are keeping watch, so Cato will get a few sharp objects lodged into his gut if he comes anywhere near here," I say confidently, shooting Rue my best smile. Then I glance at Katniss. "Besides, the longer you sleep, the more alone time I get with my woman." I look up at the setting sun and, widening my smile, add, "Actually, it's getting a little colder. You can take my sleeping bag again, Rue. I'll cuddle with Katniss in hers."

Rue grins as she gets to her feet.

"I almost want to stay awake now. _This _sounds like it's going to be interesting."

"Some of it may get a little mature for you," I warn. "Katniss still owes me a kiss for half-breaking my nose, and after she gets a taste of me, I'm pretty sure I'll be hard-pressed to keep her from wanting more. I'm pretty damn irresistible-"

"Marvel!" says Katniss. I look over and see her giving me the funniest look. It's like she thinks I'm a hundred percent mad, but is also angry enough that I'm allmost worried she'll totally discount the madness and go after me with a dull knife. "She's twelve-"

"And yet, I think that this is flustering you a lot more than it is her," I interrupt smoothly. I wave Rue off to bed, and she walks away smiling from ear-to-ear, like I'm the funniest thing in the world, while Katniss continues to stare at me with a look scarily similar to the one I gave my prep team when they asked me to undress for the first time.

Funny. I haven't even gotten around to _that _request yet.

"I'm not flustered," Katniss says a little while after Rue leaves.

"Yeah, that may not have been the best word choice," I allow, especially once she gets over her initial surprise and her silver eyes start flashing with a pretty heated fire. The kind that would burn the hell out of me if I decided to mess with it. "Right now I'm going to say _angry _is the more accurate term, which I really don't understand in the least. I don't see anything wrong with my awesomely romantic comments."

Katniss narrows her eyes at me.

"You're making me look weak again," she says. Her voice is laced with frustration. "I'm not going to throw myself all over you. I don't even know you, and I don't know what it's like in District One, but in District Twelve, people usually at least _like _each other before-"

I've got no idea why I do it. Probably because I'm a fearless idiot, but there's something about the way that Katniss _is _getting flustered that's just a little bit attractive. Back home, my flirting would have been written off as a joke by whichever girl I tried it with, but Katniss either doesn't know better or maybe she's just smart enough to realize that I'm not _completely _joking, that she is fiery enough, and… just different enough, that, with the added bonus of spectating sponsors, kissing her is actually a pretty appealing prospect.

It's funny, really, because Katniss is so caught up in making sure I _don't _do what I'm intending, that she totally misses the way that I move so I'm kneeling instead of sitting, that she hardly even notices when I start moving forward. Katniss's eyes widen when she finally wakes up and sees that I'm about six inches away from her face, but her brain doesn't comprehend what I'm doing until I actually lean down and catch her now frozen lips with my own.

I'm so worried about getting the shit slapped out of me that I only kiss her for a second. Maybe two. Then I back off, hands already up to protect myself, trying not to smile too wide. That was surprisingly not as disgusting as I would've expected kissing a poor person would be. Katniss's lips were actually soft. Warm.

If I wasn't terrified of castration, I would almost be tempted to kiss her again.

Instead, I keep my eyes on Katniss, who I'm quite worried is going to do me seriously bodily harm.

She doesn't. Once it becomes apparent that I have a second or two to speak, I relax and let my smile get a little bigger.

"Alright, Katniss. You win," I tell her. I think up the most romantic words I can, some cheesy shit that'll have the citizens of the Capitol in a real brouhaha, then, once I find something suitable enough, I continue, "I had my District One moment. Now tell me how guys do things in District Twelve, and I'll go about things that way from now on."

Katniss blinks at me once, then wipes absentmindedly at her lips- which is almost kind of insulting. I mean, really, she's the one who probably grew up eating dog intestines, and I didn't make a single comment about _that_- and glares at me.

"Are you deaf?" asks Katniss, her voice a little too loud, her eyes a little too wide. She crosses her arms over her chest and suddenly looks very uncomfortable. "I don't like you. If… if Peeta was an option, I'd probably be more apt to go for him, because he's not like… you are." She sits up a little, more confident now, like she's finally figured out what to say. "He wouldn't have done that."

Peeta. God, why is just hearing his freaking name starting to piss me off? I don't usually get mad. Not noticeably, and definitely not uncontrollably, but suddenly I really, really want to kill something.

Instead, I take a deep breath and rake a hand through my hair, working to focus on the positive. Katniss has to like me at least a little. She's smiled at me twice already. And I'm not dead. I kissed Katniss Everdeen and I'm not dead. That's a good sign.

"Yeah, and I wouldn't have either, if you hadn't screwed up my nose," I say lightly. I give her my best smile, doing my best to ignore that way I'm feeling almost… rejected? Upset? I grimace for a moment, then smile even wider because I'm really creeped out that I give a shit. "But, alas, if I hadn't just kissed you, you would have wound up owing me something, and I know how you outer district people dislike that."

Katniss looks like she's going to be mad again, but then she just shakes her head and relaxes the smallest amount, this strange expression on her face, halfway between a grimace and a smile. I'm not even quite sure how that's possible, but Katniss Everdeen somehow manages to pull it off.

"I don't understand you," Katniss says then. "You're _nothing _like anyone from District Twelve, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

And… pissy Katniss has left the building. Damn, I'm good. I kiss her, and it only takes about ninety seconds for the whole thing to blow over completely. I was expecting at least a few days of arguing, and that was if she hadn't tore my throat out with her bare hands the instant my lips touched hers.

"It's a good thing," I say confidently, my head ballooning back up to its normal size. "When I'm involved, it's _always_ a good thing. Now, back to me being sweet and romantic and all those other things that you love so much… you say you want a District Twelve guy. What do I have to do? Strip naked, paint myself black with coal, and challenge Peeta to a battle for your heart?"

Katniss almost smiles before she doesn't.

"You could stop making fun of my district, to start with," she says, but I can tell that she's definitely not mad.

I grin winningly.

"Sorry," I say, reclining back into the sitting position I was in before. It's getting chilly, just like I figured, and I'm half tempted to ask Katniss if she'd like to share body-heat, but while Glimmer had taken that suggestion gratefully our first night here, something tells me that getting away from that kiss in one piece was about as much as I'm going to manage tonight. "Go ahead. Enlighten me as to how I can reach your heart."

"Do you ever give up?" asks Katniss.

I laugh.

"Does it look like I ever give up?" I ask. Then I add, "And besides, we're in the middle of a gory fight to the death. Don't you think a little love would be nice for the both of us? And don't say, 'But one of us is going to die', because I know that very well, but you only live once, and our lives are suckishly short right now, so…"

There's a little pause after my dramatic trail-off, and I absolutely adore the way that Katniss is already starting to look so comfortable. Rue was right, about people relaxing around me. I've just never noticed it before, probably because people in District One don't take me seriously enough for me to have any opportunity to work my magic.

"That isn't bad logic," Katniss says. She looks strangely victorious. "But I really can't help you. I never really talked to any guys in District Twelve."

Now _this _is news to me. Strangely welcome news, but news all the same.

"I'm slightly worried that District Twelve's male population is blind from all the coal dust. Um… what about that rather tall, good-looking person who pulled your sister off you at the Reaping? _It_ looked like a guy, and, if the extremely protective look in _its_ eyes at the time is any indication, I would say that you've probably spoken to _it _on more than one occasion."

"Oh," says Katniss, looking horrified. "Gale."

"Aw, _shit_. I just jogged your brain about some jealous boyfriend who's probably dying to kill me right now, didn't I?" I ask, pretty sure that that's it. I don't see any reason why she'd be this upset otherwise, and now I'm mad at myself and really hoping that I didn't just kill all the progress that I've made in the name of securing sponsors.

"No, no," Katniss assures me. "He's my friend. That's it. It's just…" She looks angry at herself. "He's not the biggest fan of the Careers, and I _know_ he's not happy about this. I hadn't even thought about it before, but he's probably screaming at the television right now, shouting for me to kill you. I'm just not smart enough to listen."

"Good," I say. "That must mean I'm doing something right. And Katniss?"

"Yeah?" she asks, not quite here anymore, now deep in thought, probably thinking about Gale, who I immediately choose to dislike.

"You care about Gale, obviously, and know him, and speak to him often, so… What District Twelve mojo has he pulled to get so close to you?"

Katniss jerks back to the present and, after studying her hands for a short amount of time, looks up and stares me straight in the eye. I feel like this is another test, like she's trying to find something, and even though I'm pretty sure whatever she's looking for isn't anywhere to be found, I find myself staring right back at her.

Then, miracle of miracles, she actually starts talking.

"Our fathers both died in the same mining accident, and we were pretty tough off," says Katniss slowly. "We had no money, no food, our families were starving, and we became friends because we needed to to survive. After a while, it just… became more than that. He's my best friend now."

I stare at Katniss Everdeen. No money? No food? _Starving _families? She said 'after a while' in describing her friendship with Gale. Meaning that she and some other teenage guy have been keeping their families alive for 'a while'. God, her tone of voice even made it sound like something _normal. _

"Holy shit. This is probably really off topic, but your life… it's had to suck."

"What?" asks Katniss, because she has no idea what I'm talking about. I blink several times, then shake my head.

"Nothing. I… What I meant to say is that I must be off to a better start than I thought. You say you and Gale were thrown together because you needed each other to survive. Life or death. That sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

Katniss looks surprised, like she only now realized this. Then she shakes her head.

"I don't know why I'm talking about any of this with you. It's not important." She swallows, and her eyes turn guarded again. It's clear that she's not happy with what I just pointed out. I suppose the truth hurts. "Those mines… Do you think rocks could set them off?"

I rub at my eyes with the backs of my hands. I know Rue let me sleep for a long time, but I'm still not used to being up this long or working this much. It's irritating.

"It's not a bad idea," I yawn. And then we're back to discussing strategy, and any attempts I make to talk _about _Katniss Everdeen are glared at and immediately written off.

…

Rue wakes up happy and bouncy several hours later. After a little strategizing, Katniss and I fell into complete silence for the rest of the night. I spent a ridiculously long time sharpening my spearheads with one of my knives and looking like I was actually doing something, but that was about all that really went on.

"So, do you know what we're going to do yet?" asks Rue. Cutely, she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hands, like little kids do sometimes. "About the supplies?"

"Uh, we've got a few ideas," I say. "If Katniss can shoot a box or something over with an arrow, enough crap will fall that at least a few mines will blow up. I've told her where most of them are, so all that she'll need to do is get one thing to tumble onto a crowded spot, and everything will go to hell pretty quickly after that."

"That's a good idea," smiles Rue.

"Katniss thought of it. Probably because we had a ridiculously long time to strategize, given that she adamently refuses to talk about herself," I say, which gets me a glower from Katniss, and a smile from Rue.

"I can see her being a pretty private person," alliterates Rue. "But from what I overheard before I fell asleep, you didn't do _too _badly." She looks at Katniss. "Is he a good kisser?"

I start laughing so hard that I think I'm going to die. Without even really thinking about it, I sling an arm around Rue's shoulder and give her a manly half-hug.

"God, I wish my sister had a sense of humor like yours," I manage to get out, which gets Rue to beam so big that it has to hurt. And I _still _keep laughing, especially at the look of absolute horror on Katniss's face.

"I thought you were tired," Katniss says defensively, to which Rue only smiles bigger.

"I didn't want to miss anything too interesting," she says. Then, once I finally get myself to stop laughing, more seriously, "But, about the supplies… What are Marvel and me going to do while you blow them all up?"

"We're going to set up signal fires," says Katniss, quite endearingly red-faced. "When everything is ready, you'll light each one, one at time, to keep the Careers away long enough for me to destroy the supplies. Marvel will… he will..."

"I'll take care of any tributes Cato leaves behind," I interrupt, because Katniss doesn't have the balls to so much as talk about killing, while I'm actually quite pumped for the job. Professional assassin. It even sounds beastly. "Or any that wander in our direction before she's finished."

"Alright," says Rue. She shrugs out from under my shoulder and bounces over to her little bag. "Let's start getting those signal fires together then."

Since we really don't have anything to wait for, we all get to getting our things together. I roll up my sleeping bag and start shoving junk into my bag, then strap one of my spears on, leaving the other to carry in case we run into another tribute while we're setting up the fires. I jam Glimmer's sword in my belt, useless as I'll probably find it, and turn to Katniss and Rue.

Neither of them had half as much stuff as me and my ever-so-privileged self, so they're both waiting on me. Katniss takes a few moments to gather some green wood to make a nice, smoky bonfire at this particular location, and then we start trekking off, into the forest and away from our nice and cozy camp.

Rue slips her hand into mine before we're ten feet away. I don't make her let go.

Our trip is a lot quieter than any of my excursions with the Careers, and for once, I don't try to overcompensate with any meaningless chatter. Without a half dozen scary Careers at my back, it's not quite so easy to be overconfident. I may be cocky, but, contrary to popular opinion, I am not stupid. Or at least _that _stupid.

"I think we should have a signal," Rue finally says softly. "For when we all split up. You can hear the Mockingjays here, right?"

Because I'm not a hick, I say, "Mocking-whats?"

"Mockingjays," Rue explains. "They're in all of our fields back home, and if you whistle, they whistle the same tune back. Have you seen Katniss's pin?"

I shake my head, and Katniss turns a little, jerking her head down at a gold pin that's attached next to the zipper of her jacket. It's a little circle with a bird in it. Now that I do see the bird, I recognize it a little. They sometimes fly into some of the trees in the less-populated parts of District One, although I'm away from the city so little that I've hardly had any opportunities to see them.

"Well, that's what they look like," says Rue. "And in District Eleven, we whistle a special song at the end of every day to let everyone know it's time to come in from the fields. I think we should sing that song after the supplies are gone, to let each other know we're okay."

"Okay?" I say. "That's ridiculous. Of course we'll all be okay."

"Marvel," says Rue. Her eyes are huge, and I swear that she knows something I don't. "I'd really appreciate it. I just... I don't want to have to worry about you."

She widens her eyes even furthur and sticks out her lower lip, not enough that it's over-dramatic or intentional, but so that I know she really, genuinely wants to do this. Because she's scared, whether or not she's actually going to say so.

"It's fine," says Katniss before I can speak. "What's the tune?"

Rue whistles a simple four note song, and, almost instantly, a chorus of birds answers her. It's so surprising that I actually whistle something else, some ditsy Capitol song, so I can listen to them sing it back to me.

They get every note perfectly.

"Alright," I say. "That's awesome."

"Outer District entertainment," Katniss says jokingly, and I laugh because I was actually thinking the exact same thing. There's a really weird moment where we both make eye-contact and smile at each other a little, but then Katniss shakes her head and looks away, saying to Rue, "I think we should make up another one, too, just in case. One that we can sing if one of us is in trouble."

Rue looks even more worried now, but it's a good idea, so she nods and whistles a different, almost eerie song. This time, I shiver when the mockingjays pick it up, and even though I see myself as heartless, I really, really hope that I'm never going to have to hear it again.

We set up our second signal fire then. Our third one a mile or so later.

Then it's time to split up.

"We'll see you as soon as possible," Katniss says to Rue. "After all of the supplies are blown up."

"Yeah," echoes Rue. "After all of the supplies are all blown up."

She walks forward and gives Katniss a big hug, which Katniss only hesitates a moment before returning.

Then Rue walks over to me, and, with eyes too smart for a twelve-year-old, eyes just like my real little sister's, she says, "Remember what I said, about you being someone to look up to."

Rue hugs me super tightly, and it's a long time before she lets go. There's a huge lump in my throat, and I hate it, so I write it off as useless worry and force a smile.

"You're making it sound like we're never going to see each other again. Don't worry, Rue. We'll meet up later, just like we planned, and we can spend all night laughing about Cato's misfortune."

Rue looks a little more skeptical than I am, but she still smiles and says, "I hope so."

Then it's done and she's disappearing through the trees. Katniss and I both exchange a look, and even though we both decided that the split was necessary last night, I know that neither of us like leaving the smallest, most defenseless one of our group alone. The one that, to both of us, is probably the most-liked member of our trio. The little girl who looks up to me and says that I'm exactly what a big-brother should be like.

I wordlessly take Katniss's hand, just like Rue did with me. Not for sponsors or anything too gushily romantic, but because I think she might need it, after watching Rue walk off on her own like that.

And the thing is, she doesn't tear it away.

We keep walking forward. Katniss's sense of direction is a hell of a lot better than mine, so I follow her lead as she weaves her way through a maze of trees, not seeming at all effected by the bugs or heat. Then again, thinking back to what she said last night, about being so poor that she didn't have enough food to even feed her family, I think it's probably safe to say that Katniss Everdeen is used to a lot of things that I'm not.

We reach the edge of the Cornucopia in a strangely short amount of time. I didn't realize it was so close. Now I can very easily see why Katniss and Rue were so concerned about hunting Careers last night, but I also realize that I was right about Clove being under the weather. She's leaning back against the metal Cornucopia, her eyes closed and her face pale.

For a terrible moment I wonder if we didn't send this plan into action too early. Stupidly, I totally forgot about Clove while we were going over things last night, and I think Katniss did too, because we both exchange a rather worried look once we see her. Will Cato go chasing the signal fires if she's not well enough to go with?

We don't have too much time to dwell on it, thankfully, because the first signal fire starts flaring up only seconds later. Smoke rises high in the sky, and District Four, who seems to be keeping watch, catches sight of it instantly, getting to her feet and pointing, saying, "Look! I think someone's cooking something."

Cato- who I am pleased to note has a bandage wrapped around his right arm- appears out of the inside of the Cornucopia, nerd boy at his heels, and Peeta behind him. From the looks of it, they were all sleeping.

I don't miss the way that Katniss's breath catches in her chest when she sees Peeta.

"Oh, no," I whisper. "You agreed to this. You aren't going to back out because of him."

Katniss says nothing, and I almost want to beat my head against the ground in frustration.

Then Cato gruffly says, "District Four, Nerd-kid, you're coming with me." He looks at Clove, who's already weakly gotten to her feet, and, after a second of thought, says, "Sit back down. We'll kill us some idiot and be back in an hour. I don't want you tiring yourself out over something so small." He smirks. "I hope it's Marvel. It probably is. I'm guessing he's the only remaining tribute dumb enough to light a fire in the middle of the day."

The mental image of Cato stumbling upon a dead Clove and lots of burnt supplies keeps me from minding his insult too much.

"I don't want-" starts Clove, but she shuts her mouth and pouts when Cato sends her a nasty glare.

"Lover Boy," says Cato. "Stay here and watch her. Don't let her leave, and don't let anyone else hurt her. Got it?"

Katniss makes a funny noise, and Peeta nods, looking worried.

Then Cato and his troop head off in the opposite direction, leaving Peeta alone with Clove.

Immediately, Katniss hisses, "Peeta is coming with us. I'll hate you forever if you kill him." She pauses and actually widens her eyes at me, like Rue just did. Like I never thought Katniss Everdeen would _ever _do. "Marvel, please. If you care about me at _all_, you're going to let him stay alive."

I shake my head. I think I want to kill Peeta more than I thought because my heart has started beating funny, and I'm pretty sure that adrenaline is the only reasonable explanation for that.

"No way in hell. You told me I could kill whoever was left here, and it just so happens that Peeta was chosen to stay behind, so…"

"I thought Cato would take everyone with him," Katniss says snappishly.

"I refuse-" I start, but I stop the second that Katniss raises her bow and presses the tip of an arrow right into my chest. She's serious. She actually wants me to leave Peeta alive, and, if I don't, she's planning on shooting me. And I really, really don't want to get shot. "Fuck. Fine. I won't kill the douchebag, but please don't mess with anything else I've got planned."

"Marvel," Katniss says worriedly, but at least she lowers the bow. I gesture impatiently. "Fine," she mutters. "I promise. Now go get Peeta and take out Clove. I don't want to risk taking too long."

I don't need to be told twice. Merrily, I pick up a spear and mosey out of the forest with an absolutely enormous grin on my face. Peeta's on his feet the second he sees me, lifting a spear, probably one of the ones that Cato had stolen from me, and Clove follows suit a second later, shaky and unsteady, but still deceptively dangerous.

The second she registers who it is, she opens her mouth to scream at Cato to come back. Clove is pretty damn smart for a District Two boar. She fully realizes that it's no coincidence that I showed up so soon after Cato left.

Ignoring Peeta, I whip my first spear at Clove, acting fast so that she doesn't have the chance to call out, and then I'm running straight for her, relieved that she's not as quick as she usually is. She dodges the spear relatively easily, but it takes her just a second too long to get her bearings back enough to realize that she still needs to scream.

I pull out Glimmer's sword in a single fluid movement, and not paying any attention to the knife that Clove pulls out of nowhere and tosses in my direction, I hold the sword an inch from her mouth.

The knife skims my left shoulder, but not enough to do any lasting harm. I don't even flinch. I guess even the best aim can falter when a sword is coming straight for a person's face.

I'm just about to send the blade right through one of her eyes when I pull up short.

It's another stupid oversight that could only occur from a halfwit from District One and a couple relatively uneducated underlings from the outer districts trying to draw up fancy plans at four in the morning.

If I kill Clove, Cato will hear the cannon and come running back.

I mutter something under my breath. Great. It's either Clove, or Cato's supplies, and my very tiny logical side is coming on just strong enough that I know taking out the supplies will do a lot more damage in the long run.

Clumsily, because I really can't use a sword to save my life, I stab at Clove with the thing and get her in the arm, just deep enough that it gives me an opportunity to drop the sword and lunge forward, closing one hand tightly around one of her skinny wrists, and circling the other around her neck. Clove has enough time to buck once, aiming for my nose with the back of her head, but she's so short that she slams her head into my chest instead.

I find a pressure point in her neck, squeeze, and relax as she falls harmlessly to the ground. Ha. And my instructors thought that I slept through _all _my hand-to-hand combat classes.

"Peeta," I say, looking over my shoulder to see Bread Boy pointing his spear at my back, as if he would dare to hurt me with one of my little friends. "Katniss is with me, and we're all allies, so killing me will do nothing except make you look like a heartless asshole." He lowers the spear and I smirk. "Good. Now, fetch me my spear and get me some rope, will you?"

"Marvel," says Katniss, coming out from her hiding place. I notice Peeta work to hold back a grin at seeing her, and I really, really want to kill him. Really, I'm having a difficult enough time _without _any competition. What's Katniss going to do now that she has one of those District Twelve guys she loves so much falling all over himself to make her happy? I can gurantee that any and all of my sponsors will switch to Peeta the second that Katniss chooses him over me. "Get your own spear and rope. Peeta," she says, nodding in his direction. "You should get back into the forest. Marvel will find you when he's done with Clove."

"What are you guys doing?" asks Peeta, looking worried. He peers over his shoulder, like he's concerned about Cato coming back at any second. "I can help."

"If you want to help, don't ask questions, and fetch my things," I tell him. Katniss glares at me, but Peeta obeys my request so obediently that she doesn't even question it. I kneel down next to Clove and turn her over so that she's facing up. Her face is scary pale, and the stupid wound on her arm is bleeding more than it should be. I have half a mind to wrap the thing up so she doesn't bleed to death, but then I figure that she has at least an hour left. We'll be gone by then.

Katniss moseys off to study the pyramid of supplies, and Peeta quickly returns with a length of rope and the spear that I'd thrown at Clove. I drag Clove over to the Cornucopia, tie her hands behind her back, and then wind another piece of rope around her feet. After a second of thought, I tear off a bit of her shirt and gag her with it, just incase. Then, with a big smile on my face, I grab her knife, spend a second looking for a good-sized patch of dirt, and cut into the ground the words, _I hope you enjoyed those Marvelous fireworks._

Then, because I'm obviously smart and resourceful, I walk over to a deep-in-thought Katniss and tap her on the shoulder, telling her to wait a moment before she blows everything up. I carefully dance across the path that District Three showed us after the mines were done, stuff a little food into my bag and grab a few extra knives and spears, then play hopscotch back to safety. By then, Katniss is grinning just a tiny bit.

"See that bag up there," she says, pointing to a canvas sack of apples that's hanging right near the top of the pyramid. "If I can shoot that open, do you think that apples will be heavy enough to make the mines go?"

"I'd say so," I say. Somewhere in the sky, another signal fire starts up. We don't have much time left. Cato will charge to that one, but even he isn't dumb enough to go on to the third one. We have maybe ten minutes. "Just hurry up. And back off a little. Something tells me that this explosion is going to be big."

I take my own advice, jogging into the forest like I'm supposed to, to make sure that no one interrupts the execution of our plan. Peeta is already there, hiding behind a tree and watching the proceedings with wide eyes. I could kill him now. Leave Katniss. There'd only be a handful of tributes left, and with the extra spears I swiped, I'd hardly need sponsors...

Except then Peeta smiles at me and says, "I owe you. For taking care of her."

And he's such an idiot that I can't do anything except grunt and look away.

My eyes flash back to the clearing just as Katniss is drawing back her bowstring. She's probably about as far away from the supplies as she can get while still being in firing range, and I find myself entirely skeptical that she's even going to be able to hit the pyramid with the arrow, let alone a single bag.

She fires and her first arrow cuts right through the canvas on the sack of apples. I let out a low breath. Shit. _That _is definitely how she got her eleven.

Katniss takes a deep breath, notches another arrow, draws the string, and shoots again. Again, it gets the bag. There's a pretty big hole now. One more, and the apples are going to come tumbling out. I creep a little closer, to get a good view through the trees. I don't want to miss the fireworks.

Peeta creeps up behind me just as Katniss lets go of the last arrow. It slits the bag open completely and a couple dozen apples start tumbling to the ground. One mine goes off. The ground shakes, and shit really hits the fan after that. The other apples hit, and all the mines exploding at once prompt the others into blowing up, and pretty soon the explosion is knocking me back onto the ground, and all I can see is fire and smoke and I can't hear _anything_.

Then everything goes eerily quiet. The birds resume chirping. The blasting stops. The ground quits moving. No more mines. I force myself into a sitting position and let out a low breath.

No more supplies either.

It's a while before I can manage to regain my footing, and even then it takes a second for me to notice that Katniss hasn't gotten up yet. Peeta sees her the exact same time that I do, and I know that he's stronger than me from training, so I shove him forward, hissing, "Grab her. We have to get going."

I don't have to tell him twice. As a still dazzled-looking Peeta runs into the clearing, I hang back and look at the totally decimated pile of supplies with an enormous smile on my face.

Cato got the mines because he likes things that are big and flashy, but he apparently forgot to consider that _nobody _does big and flashy like District One.

I almost want to hang around just to see the look on his face, but then Peeta is back with Katniss in his arms, and I'm just worried enough about Rue that I make myself turn and start jogging off, still shaking with happiness.

Who's the idiot now?

...

**A/N- **

**Wow, I got writer's block something terrible this chapter, which, to those of you who asked for previews, is why you never received them. I just got this written up yesterday, and didn't get it edited until now, so... my bad. I'll make sure to send whoever asked for a preview last chapter this chapter, even if you don't review again. Although I really would be super happy if you _were _to review. ****Anyway, this chapter was long enough, so I really don't need to keep blabbering. **

**Oh, and to answer Huntress3419, whom I was too lazy to PM, Siri is like a personal assistant. I _think _it only works on certain Iphones, but you pretty much speak to it and it's supposed text or call people for you, or bring up internet pages. It also gives funny responses to random questions you ask it, which my brother and I found super-amusing in a 'Ooh- new toy' kind of way. It's nothing too amazing, though. **

**Alright, I'm done now. Again, review. Please. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	11. Deep in the Meadow

I think the entire arena knows when Cato figures out what happened to his supplies. Or maybe when he reads the little message I left him. Either way, Peeta and I both stop to listen to his impressive screams from close to a mile away. A cannon goes off soon after, and although I hope that either Clove has died, or maybe that I literally gave Cato a heart attack, I'm intelligent enough to figure that it's probably the poor bastard from Three. That's who I would've killed, at least.

"Do you think that's Clove?" Peeta asks me. He's still got Katniss in his arms, and she hasn't woken up yet. She's breathing well and has color in her face, but isn't awake.

"Nope," I say, popping the 'p'. "We're not that lucky. It's Nerd Kid. Now come on. I think Cato's done with his hissy fit, and I don't want to get caught up in his subsequent rampage through the woods."

I keep walking forward, Peeta behind me. Rue and Katniss and I had agreed to meet at the tracker jacker tree, and there is a very bothersome feeling of concern stirring in the pit of my stomach. For Rue. She'll have to die anyway, I know that _too _well, but I hate not being with her now. To protect her.

I run a hand through my hair and try to wipe the dripping sweat off my face. I've got my coat on because it's easier than carrying it, but the arena is getting to be sticky and hot. Disgusting, really, and nothing like the drier, cool temperatures I'm used to in District One. I think the heat is the reason that I'm starting to have such funny thoughts, that it's making me go mad like Annie Cresta.

Worrying about Rue? Leaving Peeta alive? _Enjoying _locking lips with Katniss Everdeen?

Yeah. Definitely the madness.

"So," Peeta says as we jog. "What are we going to do once we get to the tree?"

"Wait for Rue," I tell him simply. But he knows this, so he waits for me to say a little more. I want to tell him that we'll go to the edge of the river so I can slit his throat, push him in, and write it off as an accident, but I fully realize that Katniss would kill me for such a thing, and so I keep that delectable fantasy to myself. "I don't know. Wing it?"

Apparently that doesn't garner a response.

We jog forward a while, and then Peeta abruptly changes the subject, hesitantly saying, "I wanted to stop Cato from going after you, after the tracker jacker attack, but I… I didn't know how. I have to stay alive, you know. Until I can make sure that Katniss is going to make it out. When he came back saying that he would have killed her if you hadn't turned 'traitor', I almost threw up."

I turn and shoot him a funny look. Why would any idiot apologize to the competition for his one true love's heart, especially for something like saving his own life? Katniss isn't much more than my one true sponsor magnet, and I wouldn't sincerely apologize to Peeta if meant a free swing at his face with a mace.

I suppose he felt that he _had _to apologize because he's so moral.

Moral people disgust me.

Except Katniss and Rue... but, then again, I think my acceptance of them is a result of the madness.

"Yeah, well," I say, surprisingly honestly, "we got away, and I got stuck in a much friendlier alliance, so I'm good with it. Anyhow, how was life in Career-land? You guys take out anyone else?"

Peeta blanches and says, "The boy from Ten. Clove… had fun with him."

I remember the crippled kid and almost curse out loud. Damn. _I'd_ wanted to kill him.

"That's a pity," I say.

"Um, yeah," Peeta says. We run on in silence for a bit, then he continues, "They were finally starting to trust me. I think I would have had a better shot at Cato if I had stayed behind, but I suppose that this is better anyway. It doesn't make me feel quite so guilty."

He's right, I realize. I should have given Peeta a tad bit more credit, because, as much as I would love to impale Cato numerous times with a spear (all while he begs for mercy and admits my superiority), Cato also scares the shit out of me. Finding him dead by Bread Boy's hand would have been a pleasant surprise.

"Well, it's too late now. Besides, this was quite fun, wasn't it? I think even you smiled when he started screaming, and you're… well, you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," pants Peeta.

"You do that," I reply as we break into the clearing at the base of the tracker jacker tree. The shell of the nest is still there, and I start choking for some strange reason. I cover it up with a cough and pretend that I can't still see the ghost of Glimmer's disgusting, swollen up body right where I left it just two days ago. I actually have to blink a few times to get the illusion to go away.

I feel even sicker because Rue isn't here yet. The third signal fire was far away, but I had to slow down for Peeta, who was all but walking because of having to carry Katniss. Rue's quick. She should be here.

I listen again, but the mockingjays have stopped singing. Nothing is wrong, but she's not saying that she's okay either.

"That cannon-" I start.

"Was too close to Cato's screaming fit to have been Rue," says Peeta right away. I think he's uncomfortable, seeing me vaguely upset. Which I am. Madness or not, Rue should be here, dammit.

I don't say anything else and sit down next to the base of the tree. Peeta gently lowers Katniss to the ground and then takes a seat across from me, sweaty and panting. He's obviously not used to running like this.

"What happened?" asks Peeta then. "After you saved Katniss from Cato?"

I think it's interesting, how he phrases his question like that. Not how I ran away from Cato to save my own ass and grabbed Katniss as an afterthought, but how I completely abandoned all thought of myself to get her away from him. I wonder if that's how Peeta actually thinks things went down.

"I stopped to take a break and Rue found us," I tell him. I crane my neck a little, looking for Rue, but she's definitely not here. Not coming, either, that I can see. _Where _is she? "We made up an alliance while Katniss was still sleeping, and when Katniss woke up, Rue was there to… talk her down a bit."

Peeta smiles, and it's so genuine that I almost laugh at him for it. How is _anyone _this nice? God, I hate it when people are hard to hate.

"Is that where the black eyes came from?"

"Black eyes?" I ask, because it's not like I have a mirror. Peeta laughs and kind of gestures to the general area around the base of his eyes, and I grimace. "Yeah," I say. "Katniss flipped out when she woke up, and I tackled her, to keep her from getting her bow. I'm sure you can imagine how _that_ turned out."

"Yeah," says Peeta. He's smiling, and I think it's because we're talking about Katniss. He's definitely the type of guy who gets hopped up and giddy about something like talking about a girl's _personality_. "I think I can imagine. She isn't very good with guys who like her, I don't think. I got shoved into a vase after the interviews because she was mad at me for 'messing with her'. That's just… Katniss, though. She has no idea how she can affect people."

I think of the silence after she volunteered, of her presence at the tribute parade. I think of her eleven. All those things from the girl who is continually saying she doesn't understand why Peeta or I would like her.

"I get that now," I say, rubbing my nose a bit. "I think that's what makes her so… different. "

Peeta nods.

"It's why she affects people in the first place, because she doesn't care what they think and just acts like… Katniss."

We both fall into silence, and I keep my eyes on the girl in front of me. Peeta's right, I realize. Katniss is the epitome of everything that's _not _District One. She acts how she wants to act without a second thought as to whether or not it gets other people to accept her. For someone who wears a mask so often, Katniss Everdeen is very, very _real_.

It's a little dodgy, how I'm identifying with Peeta so well right now, especially in talking about the girl who he loves and who I really don't.

A little more time passes, and up above I can see the sun start to creep down a little. It's been over an hour, at least; it's got to be past one by now. No Rue. I almost want to look for her, but knowing her, it would be impossible for me to find anything. Maybe she got sidetracked, or maybe there's a tribute close to her tree. That could be it, why she's not giving the signal that she's okay. Some moronic douchebag is probably inadvertently keeping her trapped somewhere, and she worries that he'll realize what's going on if she leads the mockingjays into a sudden burst of random song.

Yes. That's it. Nothing is _really _wrong.

"Are you a Career?" Peeta asks me after a while, breaking up the silence. I start to open my mouth and give him some kind of smartass answer for such a dumb question, but then he seems to realize that he didn't phrase it quite right and amends, "I mean, did you train, back in District 1?"

"Nope," I say. "I learned how to throw spears so marvelously by working at my daddy's jewelry factory."

Peeta shakes his head. I think my wonderfully cheesy 'marvelous' comment throws him off for a second, because he opens his mouth like he's going to comment on it, then smiles lightly and lets out a quiet laugh.

"Right. You just don't seem like one, not _really _anyway," says Peeta. "You're arrogant and… brutal, but you're worrying about Rue. It's weird. Sorry."

"You know, Peeta friend," I say, because his thoughts are echoing my own, "it _is _weird. I'm honestly curious as to why I do care so much... Do you think that I'm losing my mind?" I tilt my head at him, waiting for an answer. I've heard somewhere that other people can detect madness better than the person who is actually going mad. "Because none of this is supposed to be happening to me."

"No," says Peeta. He's got big blue eyes that are just… strange. They're like a girl's eyes, honestly, with longish blond eyelashes and too-big irises, and they're also almost too-potent. Like he can read minds or some shit like that. If he wasn't such a powder-puff, I'd almost say that he's gotten this far because he's psychic. "I think you're just starting to care."

"Which means I'm going mad," I explain to him slowly. I let out a low breath. "I knew it."

Peeta looks like he wants to laugh, which is annoying because I'm not joking. For once. He doesn't, though, so I manage to keep from getting too mad at the pouf, and then we're quiet again. More time ticks by. I get up. Sharpen my spears. Reorganize my pack.

Katniss wakes up after about four hours. Still no Rue, no mockingjay song, no nothing. But I'm still relatively relieved when Firegirl groggily starts stirring, and then looks back and forth between Peeta and I, her face confused.

It comes back after a second, though. I can see realization lighting up her eyes, and then she smiles a little. It fades just as quickly as her other ones, but this time I find myself smiling with her- not smirking, but smiling- and then frowning, because there's something warm bubbling up in the pit of my stomach and I've got no idea what in the hell it is.

"We actually did it," Katniss says. Then she seems to notice something, and her good mood fades into worry. "Where's Rue?"

Peeta speaks first.

"We've been waiting for her since we got back."

"I heard the good song right after we blew up the supplies," I add, because Peeta doesn't know about the mockingjays. "But I haven't heard anything since. She's not here, though."

Katniss immediately goes serious, and I think she locks eyes with me because I'm no doubt looking more worried than I should be. Peeta is concerned, but more in a general way, because he doesn't _know _Rue, not like I do. He doesn't understand that she's too sweet to… to what? To die? I don't let myself finish my thought because saying that shecan't die is ridiculous.

Of course she can. She has to.

"You could have destroyed the supplies yourself," Katniss says. She walks until she's five or so feet away from me, and by the way that she's walking I can see that she's dizzy. I wonder if she has a concussion, and am then excessively troubled by the fact that I actually care.

"No, I couldn't have. We needed your arrows," I say. "Besides… I would have killed Peeta." I shoot him a look that's supposed to be apologetic but really isn't at all. "Then you would have been mad and said that you should have come with me."

"But-" she starts.

"But Rue is _fine_," I say, because pessimists piss me off and I'm really pretty pissy right now anyway. Katniss shuts her mouth right away and then falls into silence. I think that she wants to talk, but she looks as worried as I _feel_. Peeta kind of awkwardly sits there, unsure of what to do, and the whole clearing is filled with more tension than I can stand.

Rue. Damn, I don't think I'd care this much if Brianna was missing, but then again, I'm thinking Brianna wouldn't be too worried about me either. Rue would be, and maybe that's why I'm so concerned about her. Like all that owing crap that she and Katniss always talk about. I care about Rue because she cares about me.

Except that I'm _not _like that, and that philosophy is absolute crap. I am going mad, dammit. That's going to be my new explanation for all of this.

Eventually I get up and begin pacing. Then I grab a spear and pace with that. God, it's tense and I hate tension, but I can't even think up a stupid comment to get everyone to relax. I want to say something funny or ridiculous, but I don't _feel _like it. I feel like being serious and worried, and that is most definitely not normal.

"Maybe she got sidetracked for the night," Peeta finally tries. I change direction to see Katniss take a deep breath at his words, convincing herself.

"That has to be it. And Rue knows better than to sing if there's someone near her tree. She's smarter than that."

Just as I let Katniss's words wash over me, get that worry in my gut to stop wriggling quite so pressingly, I hear _something_ echo way off in the distance.

"Of course, Katniss," says Peeta. "You don't have to worry."

"Peeta," I snap, praying that I didn't hear what I think I did. "Shut up."

"She's somewhere safe-" Peeta continues, either not hearing or totally ignoring me. Thankfully, Katniss shoots him a look that has him closing his mouth in an instant. When he goes quiet, it seems like the arena erupts with a new sound, one that I really, really don't want to hear.

An eerie four note song.

I've never panicked. I've never been really afraid, especially not for someone other than myself, but in that moment my blood turns to ice and my spear goes heavy in my hand. Rue is in trouble. I close my eyes for just a moment, images of her white smile bright in my mind, the feeling of her small hand in mine burned into the back of my eyelids, and in that moment a terrifying realization hits me hard in the gut.

I can't let her die.

Without another word, I take off. I don't know how I know which way to go, but I have a gut feeling. Unfortunately, whatever progress I do make seems to take way too long. I've never been fast, I've always been slightly clumsy, and running through the forest still hasn't ceased to be a challenge to me, but this feels different. Like I'm running through quicksand and can't make my feet work right.

"MARVEL!"

My heart drops. Not again. There is no damn way that I am going to let someone else die screaming my name. I shouldn't give a shit and maybe I only do because I _am _insane, but I don't care. I just know that Rue has too much life to die, that it would be cruel and unnatural for her life to be snuffed out _now _and that I _will _save her.

God, I _have _to save her.

I don't know how fast I run, but even though I know it's too slow, I get a huge lead out in front of Katniss and Peeta. Rue keeps screaming. For me. For Katniss. Then for me again, and sometimes my head distorts her voice until it's not so high and childlike, until it's almost accusing and cool and _Glimmer. _Just the sound makes me stomach go hollow with guilt that I haven't felt until now.

My heart is about ready to burst from exhaustion when I finally burst into the clearing. Rue is struggling in a net, screaming and terrified, but alive. Without any hesitation, I kneel down next to her and set my spear on the ground beside me, reaching into my pocket for a knife to cut her free. I want to be relieved, but I'm still tense. She still isn't free.

"It's okay," I pant. Rue is staring at me with wide, thankful eyes. "I'll cut you out. It'll be fine."

Rue swallows hard and nods, but she's too terrified to say anything. She's always seemed so mature, so much like Brianna, but now it hits me hard that she _is _twelve, and that my sister would be doing exactly the same thing in a situation like this. Rue is just a kid, hell, we're _all _just kids, and she shouldn't be here. She shouldn't have to fight to the death. God, she shouldn't have to _die_.

With fumbling fingers, I cut away the net and help Rue wriggle out from underneath of it, relaxing a bit each second that I'm closer to helping her out of the thing. I just get it torn away from her, just have her freed, when I hear someone else tread into the clearing. My spear is in my hands and I'm up on my feet, all set to throw, in less than a second.

I make eye-contact with the girl from District Four, and as soon as I see that it's not Katniss or Peeta, I launch the spear harder than I've ever thrown one in my life, driving it and willing for it to get there fast enough. The girl whips a knife, and for a second I think that she was going for me. I almost laugh as the spear goes through her gut, almost smile when the knife goes three feet to my right.

Except then there's this childish gurgle that I'm never, ever going to forget.

With feet like lead, I turn around to see the knife embedded in Rue's stomach. Rue isn't smiling, but instead her eyes are bugging out of her head, her face as pale as I've ever seen it, and her hands resting around the wound, like she can't quite believe it's there.

Katniss and Peeta come into the clearing, but I hardly hear. I'm stomping away from Rue, over to the bitch that killed my little sister.

District Four is dead. My spear was thrown hard enough to almost go straight through her skinny little body, but I yank it out and shove it into her face anyway, then kick her hard. I think that I'm crying, but I'm not quite sure because I feel numb. Out of it. I grab my spear again and rise it to drive into one of her eyeballs, but then a little voice whispers, "Marvel."

I swallow and let the spear clatter to the ground. When I face Rue again, Peeta is staring at me, but Katniss has her cradled in her arms, tears running down both of their faces. Slowly, like I can't make myself move any faster, I walk over to where they are sitting and kneel next to them, reaching out to run a hand down Rue's face, wiping away her tears with my thumb.

Some part of me that I didn't even know existed wants to tell her that she'll be fine, but Rue isn't an idiot and even a moron would know that the knife is buried too deep in her stomach. She's got Katniss's hand tight in both of hers, but doesn't take either of mine. Instead I keep my hand on her cheek, not sure what else to do.

Finally I manage to choke out, "We destroyed the supplies. Pissed off Cato like you wouldn't believe."

Rue almost smiles. I take a shaky breath and close my eyes, remembering her words from a couple nights ago. That no one deserves to die. I don't know about that, but I know that she doesn't. That she worked her way under my skin. That I would have died for her if I would have had to.

Except now I won't get the chance. Someone finally believes that I'm smart and decent and not worthless, and she's dying. _Murdered_. I couldn't save her. The little twelve-year-old girl who I _love _like a sister, and I _can't save her_.

"You… you win," she says. Her big eyes look at me and Katniss, and she whispers, "Both of you. You _have _to."

I don't have the heart to tell her that we can't.

"We will," Katniss says. She's crying worse now. I can hardly understand her, and it's turning me into a mess because Katniss Everdeen shouldn't cry. I wipe at my eyes and choke on my next breath.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I want_ you_ to win." I run a hand through my hair and look up. To the Capitol. To God. To sponsors. I don't _know_. "They can save you. There have to be sponsors. They'll _save _you." I close my eyes because I know they won't. "I…" I trail off. She's dying, and I'm not helping. She's dying. God, _why _is she dying?

"I'll… I'll tell Glimmer that you're sorry," whispers Rue. I have to lean forward to catch her words, and then I _know _that I'm crying. With real tears. For the first time in a very, very long time.

I nod, unable to speak, and then Rue says, "Don't go."

"Course not. Staying right here," Katniss says. She moves closer to Rue and pulls her head onto her lap. I brush her hair out of her face, trying to memorize those big intelligent eyes. Trying to find something about this girl that I won't forget. Because I'll be even more of a monster than I already am if I forget about Rue.

"Never," I add.

Then Rue looks at Katniss, or, God I hope she looks at Katniss because I can't sing to save my life, and hoarsely commands, in a voice almost too soft to catch, "Sing."

Katniss blinks in something like surprise, but then I elbow her hard and Katniss takes a deep, shaky breath. I see her thinking over what a person could possibly sing at a time like this, and then she begins:

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_ A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_ Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_ And when again they open, the sun will rise. _

Rue's breathing has slowed down to almost nothing, and my hand is shaking against her face. She looks at me one last time, her eyes making me feel like I'm a million times _better _than I really am, and then she glances at Katniss. Between us. And I think that she knows something that we don't, because she forces the smallest of smiles onto her lips and hope shines in her eyes, and then her eyelids slowly flutter shut.

Katniss is shaking and breathing hard, but she pushes forward, her voice choked and sad and the most beautiful thing in the world.

_Here it's safe, here it's warm _

_ Here the daises guard you from every harm _

_ Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true _

_ Here is the place where I love you._

_ Deep in the meadow, hidden far away_

_ A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray _

_ Forget your woes and let your troubles lay _

_ And when again it's morning, they'll wash away. _

I can hardly see Rue's chest moving up and down anymore, but she's no longer crying. She looks peaceful, almost.

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_ Here the daises guard you from every harm _

I have to strain my ears to hear Katniss's last few lines.

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_ Here is the place where I love you. _

Things go quiet for about two seconds. Then Rue's cannon goes off, and that sets off a chorus of mockingjays, all of them taking up Katniss's song. Where Rue's tune was sung only minutes before, now the lullaby that sang her to death is reaching every corner of the arena.

Katniss leans forward and kisses Rue's forehead. I slowly back away, leaving Katniss room to gently move Rue out of her lap, positioning her head so that it rests peacefully in the grass. We should leave. The Gamemakers get mad when tributes hang around for too long, but just… going feels wrong.

Without a word, I force myself to my feet and walk over to the girl from District Four. Slowly, I pick up my spear and stare at her body for a long time. I want to make her pay, to make her suffer, but this isn't even _her_. It's just her damn body. I killed her too quickly to torture.

Still, I raise the spear into the air and bring it down hard. Once. Twice. I'm going for a third when a strong hand closes around my arm. Releasing a low, shaking breath, I face Peeta and look down at him, snapping, "This is going through your _head _if you do not let go right now!"

Peeta says nothing, only jerks his head in Katniss's direction. She's gone away from Rue now, over into the woods, and I just look at her until she comes back carrying a handful of wildflowers.

Rue would appreciate that more than what I'm doing. If she was alive. Which she isn't, because District Four is a cruel, messed-up…

I stop my thought because I know that I'm worse than District Four ever was, instead slamming the spear down through her chest one more time before taking it out, keeping it close because I might still need it. Then, with deep, shaking breaths, I trample over to the bank of wildflowers that Katniss just visited and grab my own armful. Then I make my way back over to Katniss.

She's just kneeling there, so I make the first move, yanking the knife out of Rue's stomach and tossing it into the forest. We won't need it, I can't stand the sight of it, and I just want the damn thing gone.

Katniss starts weaving the flowers through Rue's hair. I take my time, placing my own stems around her body and hiding her wound. I don't know why I'm doing this. It's the Games. Death is death. I've killed before and enjoyed it.

But I keep laying the petals out around Rue's face anyway. Madness. I want to say that I'm doing this because I've gone crazy, but I can't help but say that it's for love instead, sappy and disgusting and _wrong _as that sounds. I laugh harshly as I place my last flower on her beautiful and fragile corpse, thinking that it's screwed up. Marvel Metzger grows a heart and starts _crying _over the death of a random little girl, all while some high-up bastard in the Capitol is smiling because my and Katniss's little show will no doubt up the ratings.

Then we're finished, and I have to almost-smile because, unlike Glimmer, I at least helped give Rue a beautiful death.

Although I'm _disgusted _by the knowledge that I'd rather it was _my _beautiful death.

Katniss holds out her hand, and I mindlessly take it in my own. Peeta is hovering awkwardly in the background because he didn't _know _Rue, but when Katniss stops to turn back, he does the same.

I freeze when I see Katniss make the strange three-fingered gesture that I saw District Twelve make to her after she was Reaped, and although I don't quite know what it means, I can feel that it has to be appropriate for this situation, so I copy her, and Peeta slowly does too.

Then Katniss whispers, "Bye, Rue," and all of us walk off. I've still got tears in my eyes and I feel like I'm going to be sick, but worse than that, I feel _dead_. Like I don't even want to win anymore. Like it's not worth it.

God, Rue is gone. Rue is dead. Little Rue. Who liked to sleep with her back to mine and her frizzy hair brushing my neck. The girl who said I was exactly like a big brother should be and told me that I was someone to look up to. Who said she'd rather have me live than herself, which I didn't really understand up until now.

Rue, who had the biggest, brightest smile I have ever seen. Who stole Cato's knife. Who sent me off to sleep with fluttery breaths and saved my life from tracker jackers and somehow thought that I was a good person when I'm obviously _not_.

Dead. Forever. Gone. I didn't save her. Wasn't quick enough. She said I made her feel safe, but that's absolute shit because I _didn't save her. _

Suddenly, I remember Katniss Everdeen's words back up on the rooftop of the Training Center. Her cold, _"This is why I can't even begin to like you. Because you don't see anything wrong with this."_

Except now I do see something wrong with this.

Suddenly I stop and tear my hand away from Katniss's.

"I want to kill them," I say suddenly. I look around. I don't know who I want to kill. I don't think it's the tributes, but they're the only people here, so that's who I'm hoping is going to show up. I raise my spear and shout, as loudly as I can, "COME AND GET ME CATO! CLOVE! I'M RIGHT HERE ASSHOLES! JUST _TRY _TO KILL ME!"

Katniss rushes over and puts a hand on my arm.

"Marvel, calm down-"

I shrug away, panting.

"WHAT ABOUT THRESH? I DIDN'T SAVE YOUR PARTNER! COME MESS ME UP! I DARE YOU!"

It goes quiet. The mockingjays have stopped singing.

"No one is coming, Marvel," says Katniss. I realize that she sounds disappointed. She wants to kill someone too. She wants them to _pay_.

"_Someone _will come," I say lowly. I raise my spear and bellow, at the top of my lungs, "DAMMIT! ARE YOU SCARED? GET OVER HERE SO I CAN FUCKING KILL YOU!"

I stop screaming and whip my spear into the nearest tree.

"They're not coming," I laugh. I raise my hands up into the air and ask, "_Why aren't they coming?" _

"We need to regroup," says Peeta softly. "Get our things. Come up with a plan."

Katniss and I both stare at him blankly, but then he starts walking. Right. Fuck. A plan. I need a plan. To win. To win for Rue.

Methodically, I walk over to the tree and rip my spear out, then follow slowly after Peeta. Katniss grabs my hand again, and Peeta pretends not to notice.

Together we make our way back to the tracker jacker tree, where all of our things are still laying exactly as we left them. When we were waiting for Rue to meet up with us. I let out a low breath and take a seat next to my stuff. Now Rue's not coming. Ever.

Everyone is quiet, and it feels like a funeral. I want to sleep, but somehow don't even have the energy for that. I think that Peeta is just fighting for something to say, something to make this go away, when the trumpets blare in the background.

"Oh, shut up," I mutter. "I don't want to go to a damn feast."

But when Claudius Templesmith speaks, he's not inviting us to a feast.

I blink several times as I hear him babble on in some foreign gibberish about rule changes. _What _rules? Don't turn cannibalistic and kill everyone you can? Because those are pretty much the only two that I can think of.

Except then Claudius Templesmith says, "Under this new rule, _two _allied tributes can live as long as one is male, and one is female." He pauses because he knows that none of us get it. "I repeat, _two _allied tributes can be crowned as Victors in the event that they are male and female."

Katniss and Peeta and I all exchange one look. I suppose I _should _be enthusiastic. Rue's words… they've pushed the Capitol into giving her what she wanted for Katniss and I, for the two of us to win. It's like she died so she could sucker the Gamemakers into letting us two out together.

Except Peeta is here, and, well… let's just say that that makes things pretty damn awkward.


	12. Fighting Over Kats

There's a ridiculously long silence after Claudius Templesmith's announcement. If the situation were different, I probably would make some smartass comment about having an excuse to go after Peeta, but with Rue's death still strong in my head, I'm really not in the mood to make any jokes. Instead, I only stare at Lover Boy, who is staring at Katniss, who, to my absolute shock, I can feel looking at _me_.

"We can go home," Peeta finally says to Katniss, breaking the awkward silence with a hopeful, desperate voice. "Katniss, both of us-"

"No," Katniss interrupts, shaking her head. She runs her fingers through her hair and it looks like her head is about ready to explode. "I… I don't want either of you talking about getting home, okay?" She locks eyes with both of us. "Let's just keep going, and hope that it's not Cato and Clove. They're the only other allies, right?"

"Katniss," Peeta says slowly, like he can't quite believe it. His eyes are wide. I'm almost as surprised as he is. "You're considering letting _him_-"

I don't know why I feel so apathetic about this, but my voice is strangely dull when I interrupt, "Just shut up, Peeta. We can fight it out if we're the last two, but forget about this until then." I turn my eyes to Katniss. "And yeah, Cato and Clove are the last two allies, unless Thresh is with the redhead."

When I'm done speaking, I mash the heels of my hands into my eyes and let out a low breath. God, _what _is my problem? I've seen people die all the time. I've had relatively close friends volunteer and have even cheered _against _them in favor of more entertaining tributes. My grandfather had a heart attack right in front of me, and I _laughed _because the money-grubbing asshole made a funny face when he started clutching at his arm. Even my mother didn't make any move to help him, and she let me skip the funeral in favor of sleeping in an extra few hours.

So I've seen death. It's just never made me feel like shit before. Why can't I make myself get over this? It's been over an hour since Rue died, but I can still hear her screaming, can still see her eyes bright in my head. I just had what I assume is a huge part in changing the rules of the Hunger Games, and I don't even give a shit.

"Right," Katniss says, looking at me strangely. Things get quiet again, until the anthem interrupts our brooding silence. I turn my spear over in my hands as the face of the girl from Four pops into the sky, her eyes narrowed in a failed attempt to look even the least bit intimidating. My eyes travel down the length of my spear, which I should have cleaned but haven't. There isn't just her blood on it. The spearhead is covered in guts, too.

I slowly lower the gutty spear and begin wiping it in the grass for something to do when District Four's face fades away into Rue's. I physically can't look at it, which is _sick_, because this is supposed to be cause for celebration. Two tributes dying so close together this late in the Games? It's good luck, a real treat. The people watching are probably thrilled.

I finish wiping the intestines or lung or eyeball- whatever the hell hasn't fallen off my spear yet- on the grass, and then I lean back against my tree and say, "You two can go to sleep. I'll take first watch."

Katniss looks like she wants to protest, but Peeta says nothing, only slowly goes through the motions of bringing our stuff together so that it's easy to move. Katniss goes to help him, her eyes lingering at me as she moves away, before Peeta says something and she seems to totally forget that I exist. The two of them chat in low voices that I can't make out.

Beyond just the sponsors it's losing me, I _hate _seeing Katniss talking to Peeta like she is. She's not working out motive or staring in disbelief or looking at him like he's a total moron. They look like best friends and I move away, angling myself so that I don't have to watch. I'm not jealous. To be jealous, I would have to like Katniss Everdeen in the first place. I am simply pissed off. Pissed off that Peeta is that damn District Twelve boy she was talking about wanting so much, pissed off that he's making me look bad, and pissed off that I've been breaking all my damn rules for Katniss Everdeen and that Peeta Mellark is still so much better.

I begin sharpening one of my spearheads for the twentieth time in the last two days, my movements harsher than necessary. I'm starting to act like the bitter, pessimistic rich lady who lives across the street from us back in District One. Our mother would drag Breeze and I over to her place for tea every month or so, and she'd spend the entire time talking about her ridiculously large collection of cats.

One time, I decided that it'd be funny to _take _one of those cats and have a little fun. I shaved its hair, dyed its skin a bright, happy orange, and left it on her doorstep in a white woven basket. The crazy old bitch chased me with a bowie knife, but damn, Breeze and I laughed our asses off about that.

Vaguely, I imagine that the cat lady is watching me closely right now, sympathizing because I now have a good idea of what it's like to have someone temporarily kidnap one of my cats. Fuck, she's probably scoping me out as a potential companion if I make it back to District One.

I suppose that, if I do get back to District One, I _will _hang with the cat lady just because I won't have any other company. Gloss has to be pissed at me for letting Peeta into this alliance in the first place, my mother is no doubt denying that I'm her relation, Breeze is most likely disgusted, and I'd imagine that everyone else in District One has started cheering for Cato and Clove since I have obviously lost my mind.

I look over my shoulder and see that Katniss and Peeta have now decided to share a sleeping bag. Great. Katniss probably figures she's just staying warm, all while Panem is fantasizing about the gray-eyed, blond-haired children she and Peeta are going to have once this is over.

This just keeps getting better and better. So far today, I've cried for the first time since I was _six_, mutilated a corpse, didn't kill Peeta, left Clove alive, decorated a little girl's body with flowers, spent a good half hour staring broodily into the night, and am now working myself up over the spawn that Peeta Mellark will not get the chance to have with the fake love of my life.

Shit. I sound like an insane, bipolar, pregnant teenage girl.

I need to get away from this. To do something so that I don't think about shit I don't want to think about.

I get to my feet, spear still in my hand, and start walking away from the two 'star-crossed' lovers.

Really, I shouldn't be so upset about any of this. Rue is dead, but there's nothing I can do about it. I'm embarrassing my district, but District One is so full of liars and assholes that it hardly matters. Katniss and Peeta are getting cozy, but it _won't_ last.

Unfortunately, thinking logically doesn't do shit. Knowing that Rue won't come back only makes things worse. Being so apathetic about my district makes me concerned about the possibility of brainwash. And Peeta... just the fact that he's still _alive _pisses me off, and it's worse because I could kill him right now. I _should _kill him right now.

But I can't. I don't want Katniss to hate me, and she'd do a hell of a lot more than that if I took out Lover Boy.

I come to a stop in front of the stream. It's not far enough away, but it's too cold for me to want to wade across. Even though I've been pretty damn pathetic lately, I still refuse to sink low enough to die from self-inflicted hypothermia.

Taking a deep breath, I look up at the sky, struggling to find something to be optimistic about.

The beeping starts a second later. Slowly, I crane my neck to see a silver parachute fluttering right down in front of me. I snatch it out of the air, my brain buzzing with confusion. I just cried in the Hunger Games. Peeta and Katniss are snuggling sweetly while I am moping and comparing myself to an old lady with too many cats. _They _should be getting the sponsors. I should be getting a psychologist.

Totally bewildered, I open the parachute. Sitting in the middle of the silver fabric is a loaf of plain bread. Not the smooth, processed stuff that's common back in District One, but a crescent shaped-loaf that's sprinkled through with seeds. I look up at the sky in confusion, not comprehending this. Katniss can hunt, and we've got plenty of food anyway. This… is random. I turn it over in my hands, staring at the stuff. It's still warm, like it just came from the oven, and looks strangely appetizing. What's the point of this? Is Gloss trying to tell me something about Peeta? He's ugly, and he makes bread, so eat him?

"Marvel?"

I jump a little, my free hand automatically going for my spear. Then I recognize Katniss's voice and let my hand drop harmlessly back to my side. Huh. Maybe she was still awake. Or I guess nightmares wouldn't be out of the question. What I did to that girl from District Four was gruesome, and Rue's death was... bad. Well, and sleeping so close to Peeta would scare the shit out of anyone.

I _almost _make a dirty- and bitter- comment about Peeta trying something dodgy and chasing her off, but I when I actually see Katniss's face, I just... can't. Her eyes are red and her face is strangely pale and she looks like shit.

"I _was _keeping watch," I say right away, figuring that I should first address why I left her there sleeping all by herself. "I just heard something."

Katniss nods, but I don't know whether or not she believes me. It gets quiet for a second, and then I notice Katniss staring at the bread I've still got wrapped up in my hands. She peers a little more closely at it, then asks, "Did you just get that?"

"Uh-huh," I said mindlessly. "Not sure why, but..."

"It's from District Eleven," says Katniss. She wipes at her eyes. "From Rue's district."

That's absolutely ridiculous. Thresh is still here, and I doubt he's got soup packets in his backpack like I do. He's _from _District Eleven, and more likely than not needs the food more than I do. Besides, people never give gifts to anyone outside their district, especially not to Careers. It's unheard of.

"I don't get it," I say.

"They're thanking you," says Katniss softly. She looks up and almost-smiles at me, and I don't know _why_. "For what you did for Rue. If Thresh doesn't win… I think they want you to."

Because Rue wanted me to.

I almost don't believe it, but it feels right somehow.

I weigh the bread in my hands and then look at Katniss.

"You sang her to sleep, you grabbed the flowers." I tear off a piece of the bread and hand it to her. "Have some."

Katniss takes the piece gently from my hands and chews it slowly and softly, like it's something precious. I tear off a bite for myself. Even if the texture sucks and it kind of tastes a little more like cardboard than I'd like, I don't make a face. By how skinny Rue was, even this was probably pretty valuable back in District Eleven, and although I've gotten into that habit of making an ass of myself, this is… different. More important. I don't want to offend Rue's district.

Katniss and I stand there for a long time, sharing the loaf of bread and not saying anything. Then, when there isn't much left, she says, "We should give this to Peeta."

"Fuck Peeta," I say, with a real smirk. I feel better now. That optimism I was looking for apparently came in the form of a chunk of questionable tasting bread that is probably infused with some sort of Outer District parasites. Well, and Katniss is here now. If I was still going with the old cat lady metaphor, I'd say that I got my cat back. "He's been gorging himself with the Careers for the last ten days. He doesn't need it."

"You really don't like him, do you?" Katniss asks.

I look right back at her.

"You really do like him, don't you?" I ask, turning the question around. As much as I'd love to answer honestly, something tells me Katniss wouldn't be thrilled if I told her that I'd like Peeta a lot better if he was in a casket. With a spear through his head.

"I don't know," says Katniss, looking like she's actually telling the truth. "I owe him a lot, and he has to be the best person in these Games, but…" She shakes her head, and I know that she's not going to say anymore. "I don't want to talk about this with you."

"Who else are you going to talk about it with?" I ask, wondering why Katniss would owe Peeta but not caring enough to ask.

"No one," says Katniss. She glances at me. "If I was back in District Twelve, I'd ask Gale about it, but… _if _I manage to get back, it'll be too late. There won't be a choice to make anymore. I hate myself for it, but I almost wish that there wasn't a rule change in the first place. I owe both you and Peeta so much… but the best I can hope for is to save one of you, and even if I do get out, whoever doesn't make it is going to haunt me for the rest of my life."

We go quiet for a bit while I chew this over.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask finally, because I know that Katniss Everdeen doesn't trust easily, and therefore the idea of her trusting me with something personal is ludicrous. She knows better, right?

Except maybe she doesn't, because she just admitted to possibly thinking about me for the rest of her life, which means that she cares about me. A lot. Too much. And I'm illogically glad.

"I think it's because I trusted Rue," Katniss says after a short pause. "She saw something good in you, and even if I'm not quite certain what that is, I'm just starting to realize that it's there. I'm not sure what I expected when she died, but I didn't think you'd care so much."

"Neither did I," I say. I want to end it there, to keep myself from losing any further dignity, but I find that when I start talking, more words come rushing out too quickly for me to stop. "It would've been easier if I didn't," I go on. "I've never cared about anyone else enough to give a shit whether they die or not, but when I saw that knife in Rue's gut… it killed me so much that I think taking the knife myself would've hurt less."

Katniss doesn't say anything, and I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She's looking at her hands, and for a moment the yappy-dog exterior is totally gone. She looks young and weak and tired and sad. Without even thinking about it, I shrug an arm around her shoulder, barely even touching her because I don't want to scare her off. For a second Katniss doesn't move, but she relaxes a bit when she realizes that I'm not going to try to steal another kiss or anything similarly suicidal. Even if she doesn't lean in closer me, she doesn't move away either.

I'm relieved. For the first time, I realize that some really fucked up part of me wants her to stay here, this close to me, forever. So I can protect her from everything that makes her so miserable. So I can take care of her instead of having to watch her struggle to take care of everyone else.

Even when Katniss gets her mask back on, the feeling doesn't go away. It just hangs out, like it's been chilling in the front of my brain for a long, long time.

Too quickly, Katniss jerks her head up in horror and says, "Peeta. I left him sleeping by himself."

"We're close enough to hear him if he starts screaming," I say absently, moving a little closer to Katniss because I know she's going to tear off after Peeta any second now. "Let's just make this moment last a little longer, and if we get lucky he'll get mauled by a giant mutt-"

Katniss completely ignores me and ducks under my arm, sprinting back in the direction of the tracker jacker tree. I run after her without a word, my long strides catching me up easily. We're pretty much side-by-side when we burst back into the tracker jacker clearing to, to my absolute shock, find the redhead from Five rummaging through Katniss's bag.

Unfortunately, Peeta's sleeping innocently in the background, totally oblivious to the fact that she is _right _there.

I notice that she doesn't have any obvious weapons. Damn. Bread boy got lucky.

The redhead hears us before we're even all the way into the clearing, and instead of freezing up like people normally do when they get caught doing something they shouldn't be, she springs to her feet and starts running.

"Freeze or I'll shoot," Katniss says dangerously, her bow already raised and ready to fire. I get my spear up, too, a little slow because I was too busy checking to see whether or not Peeta had sustained any mortal injuries. Once the redhead stops, probably realizing that Katniss's chances of missing are nonexistent, I raise my spear to finish her off because I know that Katniss doesn't like killing.

Katniss shakes her head at me before I can throw.

"What?" I ask. "You don't even know her. Why can't I kill her?"

Katniss doesn't take her eyes off the other girl when she answers, "She left Peeta alive."

"Oh," I say. "Silly me. I'd say the useless bitch deserves torture instead, then. I've got rope-"

"I'm with Thresh," the girl interrupts, her voice smooth and totally unafraid. She slowly, innocently turns around so that she can look at us. "He'll make you regret it if you kill me."

"You're lying," I say right away, even though I don't know if she is. There'd be no reason for them to not get together, not when it'd eliminate an enemy and give each of them an extra ally. It'd be the smart thing to do.

"Do you want to test that theory?" the redhead asks, smirking like she knows that she has us. Katniss turns her eyes to me for just a second, but I refuse to lower my spear. Rue was one thing. I would spare her life a hundred times over. This is different. This girl is nothing more than another tribute. A target. Someone keeping me from getting out of this arena alive.

I see Peeta wake up in the background, the commotion finally stirring him from his sleep, but he's smart enough not to make any sudden movements. I look at District Five's position relative to him and try to gauge my chances of throwing a spear at her, missing, and hitting Peeta instead.

It'd be near impossible. Even _I'm _not that good.

"I don't see why not," I shoot back. "Thresh doesn't scare me."

District Five shoots me a fiery look with gleaming green eyes, and I swear that her smirk grows even bigger. She almost reminds me of the kid from District Three, with the way her eyes shine with intelligence, but she's cooler about it, not so arrogant. More dangerous.

"He should," she says. "He's in the forest right now, watching all of this. You know that he has a spear, too- he stole it from you at the bloodbath." She wipes a strand of loose hair from her face and easily says, "If you throw your spear at me, Thresh will take you down with his before you can even move."

"Shit, you've got balls," I can't help but say, smirking broadly. "If my heart wasn't already taken-"

"Just let her go, Marvel," cuts in Katniss. "It's safer."

I don't want to let her go. Not so late in the Games. There are seven people left, five to kill, and I may not get another chance like this. But if Thresh is in the forest, somewhere that I can't see him, offing the redhead _now_ would be suicide. She's obviously smart, but she's also clearly not a fighter. _Someone _will get her sooner or later.

"Fine," I mutter, keeping my spear up because I don't trust this girl at all.

Katniss lets out a low breath and jerks her head towards the forest. The other girl looks way too smug as she darts away with a small smile on her face, like she just outsmarted us.

For some reason, that smile terrifies me. I've got a gut feeling that escaping with her life isn't the only thing she's proud of herself for.


	13. Bending the Definition of 'Okay'

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," Peeta says as soon as the redhead is gone. He's on his feet in a second, _now _holding up a knife and staring into the forest like he's worried Thresh is going to come and tear Katniss apart. As if _he _could protect _her_. I don't think Peeta understands that Katniss is more of a man than he is. "I didn't hear her, and-"

"Peeta," Katniss cuts in, dropping her bow to run over and throw her arms around him. I study my spear and start counting under my breath. Breeze always said that hugs stopped being friendly after the first seven seconds. "You could have _died. _I just… heard Marvel leave and left you here. I didn't even think_._"

Her face twists into an ugly scowl- although I know that she's more mad at herself than Peeta or me- and then she steps away. Six seconds.

"Why _did_ Marvel leave?" asks Peeta, giving Katniss this tender look like that hug actually meant something, when, in fact, it was a friendly six-second hug that subtly indicates he has been _friend zoned _to anyone who knows what they're talking about. I'm tempted to tell him I actually _kissed _Katniss once already, but on the risk of having Katniss jump at, castrate, and maim me, I keep that little tidbit to myself.

"Marvel is right here, and, surprisingly enough, _has_ taught himself how to speak," I say, getting Peeta to look away from Katniss for the first time since the redhead left. "And I left because I heard something." I shrug my shoulders and smile apologetically, easily finishing, "Probably just an animal."

Peeta is somewhat skeptical, but I'm too good of a liar for him to really doubt me. He drops the subject.

"Alright," he exhales. "I guess we're all alright now. That's what matters."

"Yeah. I suppose," Katniss says. "But what now? If Foxface- the girl from Five- really _is _teamed up with Thresh, they'll be more dangerous than Cato and Clove-"

"Hardly," I interrupt. "Clove is insane. If her arm isn't working well enough to throw a knife, she'll probably come at you with her _teeth_. We still have to worry about District Two the most."

"Either way," Katniss says, "they're all dangerous, and I don't like that Foxface knows where we're at."

"So you're saying we should hide?" Peeta asks.

"That'd be stupid," I say. Whether I paid attention or not, I've listened to so many lectures on how to bend over backwards for Seneca Crane and his buddies- thank God they were different from the ones Glimmer apparently got- that I know about eighty two different stats expressing the gruesome, Gamemaker-induced deaths met by gutless tributes who try running away. "The Gamemakers like sending Mutts to take out boring, non-confrontational tributes. No one wants them to win, so it'd be suicide to turn into one this late in the Games. We can't just move. We have to _do _something."

"Marvel is right," Katniss says, sounding so surprised that I almost find myself offended. Seriously. When am I _not _right? "But I don't think we should go hunting yet. Not when we don't know how Clove is doing or whether or not Foxface and Thresh are actually together."

"I think we should count on them being in an alliance," says Peeta slowly. "If they weren't just now, they'll probably find each other soon, right?"

I snort out an agreement. Peeta's probably correct on that account. Now _there's _something to be surprised about.

"That's true," says Katniss, her words slow as she thinks over a plan in her head, "but we still need a better understanding of our situation." She turns her eyes to me and asks, "Would it be too dangerous to move closer to the Cornucopia?"

I take a second to briefly revel in the fact that she's asking me instead of Peeta- who was at the Cornucopia for twice as long as I was- before actually considering the question.

If the trap that caught Rue was any indication, District Four had time to set up a few around the arena after the tracker jacker attack, but I doubt any of them are dangerous. Just nets and ropes to catch prey, not to kill; things that wouldn't be a big deal to anyone with something sharp enough to cut their way out. So those aren't real threats, and with Cato and Clove being the only two Careers left, tribute-hunting is out of the question for them. While I'm sure that they'll be rotating watches, they aren't in good enough shape to really be patrolling the area.

"No," I say finally, "I don't think so. We could actually probably find a good place to spy on Cato and Clove, and maybe being so close to the middle of the arena will draw in Thresh and the redhead, too. It could turn into one giant free-for-all."

Neither Peeta or Katniss seem too keen on the free-for-all idea- God knows why, since I can't imagine either of them finding any problem with taking out Cato or Clove- but they both eventually mumble that it would be best to at least get a bit closer to the action, and, probably more importantly, to move somewhere where the redhead can't find us so easily.

It doesn't take us long to gather all of our supplies together. I grab soup packets for breakfast, and Katniss runs to get some water so we can eat before we go. That leaves Peeta and me alone. I spin the spear I left out in my hands speculatively, looking from it to him even though I know that I won't actually throw it.

Gloss would call me weak. Shit, I'd call _myself _weak.

One throw. I really shouldn't be having this problem.

"Are you okay?" asks Peeta, breaking me away from an internal argument I've been having all too frequently lately.

"What?" I ask, because I honestly can't believe that he just asked me that. Other than some itchy filth, a few too many bug bites, and that annoying cut Clove gave me, I'm great. I'd be better with a shower, a warm meal, and some toothpaste, but things could be a lot shittier.

I'm totally fine. More or less uninjured. Hungry, but not like I could be.

"You were upset before," Peeta shrugs. "I mean, you were close to Glimmer, and then Rue just died..."

I blink at him several times. It takes me a second to grasp exactly what he's saying.

"I'm good," I say emphatically. I don't know if I'm lying or not. I've never thought about 'okay' in terms of emotions before, and although, looking back, I know I _wasn't _okay right when Rue died, I'm not so sure anymore. Everything that's going on seems to be shifting and distorting until I'm not sure _what_ I should think of it all. Hell, I don't even know what I _do _think of it all, and that's not taking into account the fact that my impending insanity is rendering my thoughts less than legit in the first place.

So maybe I'm okay. Maybe I'm not.

If Peeta keeps talking to me like he's actually concerned, _he _definitely won't be. Maybe I've twisted my previous perception of the Hunger Games into a sad little shell of what it used to be, but even I still realize that we're supposed to hate each other. He, apparently, doesn't.

I wonder if it's because he's too good or too stupid or if there's even a difference at this point.

Katniss comes back with the water a short while later. I lean back on my elbows and watch while Bread Boy starts a fire, looking mighty damn proud that he's actually doing something better than I could. Katniss takes a seat beside me, but keeps her eyes trained on Peeta as he works.

After a second, she glances at me and lowly asks, too soft for Peeta to hear, "Did you see the look that Foxface gave us before she ran away?"

God, I love that nickname. Foxface. It fits District Five perfectly.

"Uh, yeah," I say. "You're talking about that cheeky smirk she sent us, right?"

Katniss nods, then says, "I checked while we were packing, and she didn't take anything important. Do you think she was just that proud that she managed to get away?"

"I don't know," I say thoughtfully. I really don't. "My most intelligent conjecture is that she thought I was cute and decided to try some impromptu flirting. I wouldn't blame her, really-"

"Marvel," cuts in Katniss exasperatedly, trying really hard to stay serious. I can see that she's mad at me for distracting her, but the look on her face is so cute that I really don't care. "This could be serious."_  
_

"Or it could be a fifteen-year-old girl's hormones getting away from her in the presence of six feet and three inches of District One's finest."

Katniss elbows me in the ribs and good-humoredly says, "Great. You're 'you' again."

"You know you were dying for me to come back," I reply confidently, although I don't quite agree with her about being 'me' again. The bread and Katniss set me back on track a bit, but I can feel that the last few days have really screwed with the deep, inner-workings of my brain.

I'm still not sure that I've lost my mind, but even if I haven't, I've fucked it up pretty thoroughly.

"Hardly," says Katniss. "But seriously now. I _am _worried."

"Don't be," I say, because even though I know entirely where Katniss is coming from- District Five did look _way _too proud of herself- worrying about it now is useless. She's gone, and we're leaving within the hour. "Nothing she just did will mean shit if we meet later on."

Katniss doesn't say anything for a bit, but then she nods, reluctantly assenting, "You're right. She was probably glad to snatch a knife or a bit of food. I can't think of anything else she could have done. If you see something strange, though..."

"I'll keep it to myself and hope that it gets you killed later on," I say sincerely. Katniss hits me lightly on the arm, and I laugh loudly. "Come on, Firegirl. I've been the epitome of trustworthy since I've gotten into the arena. How can you still doubt me?"

"I don't _doubt_ you," says Katniss, her lips turning up just a tiny bit and her eyes sparking in a way that has me imagining my heart stutters- getting in-character, obviously. "But I wouldn't put it past you to forget."

"That would've hurt if it wasn't true," I allow, and we both share a small smile before Peeta, who _still _doesn't look mad _or_ jealous, announces that our soup is done. I get to my feet and offer Katniss a hand up. To my surprise, she actually takes it, and even though she lets go right away and doesn't even look at me as she walks over to Peeta to get her soup, I'm still stupid proud that she took it in the first place.

Katniss kind of pushes us into eating quickly. She never really says anything, but she's so fidgety and impatient- especially after she inhales her own helping before Peeta and I are halfway done with ours- that after exchanging a look, Peeta and I scald our throats trying to get our soup down so we can leave. Once we're all finished, Katniss goes through the camp and erases the obvious signs that we were here, and then we're off.

Since I have the sense of direction of a drunk possum, I fall into step just behind Katniss and let her lead. While Katniss and I were joking around before, the mood shifts a bit so that it's more serious now. Even I keep my mouth shut with the possibility that Thresh could be out hunting. District Five doesn't scare me, not in a fight, and unless she got some miracle Capitol medicine, Clove is out and Cato is tied down with her, but the possibility that an absolute beast like Thresh could be hiding in the trees with a spear, knowing where we are when we've got no idea where he is, keeps me relatively quiet.

Once we get to the stream, Katniss has all of us step in and walk through the water to cover up our tracks completely. The weather is getting warmer, I think, so the cool stream actually feels good, even if I stumble more than walk through the current. I glance over at a struggling Peeta several times just to reassure myself that at least someone here looks more clumsy and uncoordinated than I do.

Eventually we run out of water to walk in, and Katniss has us veer straight right until we're back into the thicker forest. After that, it's only a half hour or so before I start recognizing where we're at. Katniss slows a bit and holds up her hand to tell us to stop once we're maybe a mile away from the Cornucopia.

"I don't think we should all go any further," says Katniss. "It'll be quieter if someone goes to spy on Cato and Clove individually."

"I'll go," I volunteer. I know that Katniss won't let Peeta go. He's somehow noisier than I am, not to mention suckish with all things sharp and pointy. Letting Peeta anywhere near the Cornucopia by himself would practically be like resting him on a bed of lettuce, sticking an apple in his mouth, and giving him to Cato on a dinner plate. So Peeta won't be playing spy, and while Katniss is easily the quietest out of all of us, I don't want to be stuck alone with Bread Boy again.

"Okay," says Katniss, not arguing because she knows that I'm man enough to take care of myself. "Peeta and I will find a good place to camp while you're gone."

"And I'll find this camp how?" I ask.

"One of us will come back here and wait for you," Katniss answers after a second of thought. "Don't worry. It shouldn't take long."

I nod and start to turn around, but Katniss's hand on my arm stops me.

"What?" I ask, smiling. "Want a good-bye kiss?"

"No," Katniss says, pursing her lips against a smile. "I want to make sure that you know better than to take on Cato by yourself."

"Don't worry, Katniss," I say with a grin. "I'm fully aware that I'm just supposed to be scoping out the area."

"And you know how to get to the Cornucopia?"

Good lord, she sounds like what I figure a concerned mother would sound like. It almost makes me glad mine's never given a shit.

"From here? Yeah, I think so," I reply. Katniss opens her mouth again to ask something else, but this time I reach out and pinch her lips shut. "I'm going to be fine. Seriously. What're you so worried about?"

Katniss takes my hand off of her mouth and, not letting go, looks me right in the eye and slowly says, "Last time I split up with someone, they got captured and killed. I don't want that to happen to you."

Shit. Rue. I look close at Katniss, studying her face intently, and for the first time I realize that, even though she didn't make a big deal out of it like I did, Rue's death hit her just as hard as it hit me. Maybe she worries about me a little, but right now, most of her concern comes entirely from the inane fear she has of me meeting the same fate as Rue.

Without thinking about it, not really, I reach out and rest my hands on Katniss's forearms, leaning down so that our foreheads are almost touching. Our eyes are only inches away from each other, and I can feel her breath on my face. The realization that I _really _want to kiss her, not for sponsors or any acting shit, but for _me, _bulls me over hard, but I push it back and force myself to stay serious.

"Do I look like Rue?" I ask.

Katniss shakes her head.

"She was _twelve_, Katniss," I say lowly, unsure of why I'm so concerned about calming her down, why I'm taking her worry so seriously. "A kid who didn't know how to use weapons or defend herself. I've trained for this my entire life. It's different." Backing off a bit, I shoot her my cockiest smile and add, "Believe me, I'll cut off Cato's head and wrap it in a bow for you if the bastard gets anywhere near me."

Then I kiss her forehead and lope off before she has a chance to say anything else.

The trip to the Cornucopia doesn't take me long at all. Before ten minutes have passed, I can hear the waves from the lake lapping up onto the shore. I slow my steps and raise my spear a bit, taking care to move more quietly as I approach the thicker trees that ring the clearing.

When I get my first glimpse of the glinting gold of the Cornucopia, I furrow my brow. I don't see Cato or Clove. The destroyed supplies are still there, but nothing else. My next thought is that they may be inside the thing, hiding from the heat.

After a second of hesitation, I lean down and pick up a rock, giving it a good toss out into the middle of the clearing. It bounces twice before skidding to a stop maybe three feet from the mouth of the Cornucopia. Ready to throw, I keep my eyes trained on the entrance to the thing, sure that someone is going to come out, but no one does.

Despite the fact that this whole thing is just screaming 'trap', I creep out from my hiding place, practically giving myself whiplash with how much I'm jerking my head back and forth, looking for signs of trouble. There's definitely no one in the clearing, and after stealing my way up to the Cornucopia, I take a quick peek inside, letting out a low breath when I realize that it's completely empty. There's some trash, old food things, bloody bandages, and a crumpled silver parachute, but other than that even their bags are gone.

Cato and Clove aren't here and, by the looks of it, they aren't coming back.

I jog around the clearing a bit more, but there's nothing telling me where they've gone. It makes sense, I guess, that they'd leave the place where everyone would expect them to be now that they don't have the numbers advantage that they did before.

With one last glance over my shoulder, I sigh and head back in the direction I came. This time I take care to make sure I go straight, moving a bit more slowly than before because I would really be screwed if I managed to get lost now.

Thankfully, I do make it back to the right place, and it's only a few minutes later that Katniss finds me.

"See?" I say, gesturing to my amazingly attractive, entirely in one piece body. "I'm alive."

Katniss allows herself a small smile.

"Yeah," she says. "I guess you are. What'd you find out?"

"They're both gone," I say, following Katniss as she starts heading off. "I don't know where they went, but the place was empty. No sleeping bags or supplies, and I know they had at least some with them when we blew up the rest."

Katniss furrows her brow at this information, and I can see her chewing it over in her head as we walk. It's a while before she says, "That makes things more difficult. Do you think we should still stay here?"

I shrug.

"Even if Cato carried her, Clove was bleeding like hell the last time I saw her. They didn't get very far, and I'm sure Thresh and District Five will get escorted over here if they aren't in the area already. I say stay."

"Right," says Katniss. She stops in front of a place where a couple of enormous trees have fallen against a hill, making a narrow kind of makeshift tent-like thing. There's some vines draped over the entrance, but even though it looks like Katniss did at least a bit of camouflage work, it's still pretty noticeable. Better than staying in a tree, but not ideal. "Here we are," says Katniss, gesturing to the shelter. "Peeta can't climb well and you probably have never tried, so I figured it would be safer if we didn't have to worry about getting trapped thirty feet off the ground."

"Agreed," I say, looking the thing over a bit more. It's good enough, I suppose. At least it keeps us protected on three sides, and, with the fourth being covered with vines, there is a chance that someone could miss it if they weren't looking closely. "This is _definitely _better than trying to climb trees."

Katniss shakes her head like she disagrees, but sweeps the vines aside to duck into the shelter, holding them out of the way so that I can follow behind her. I'm tall enough that I have to bend in half to stand up in the shitty shelter, so I wind up just getting down on my knees right away, having to shift awkwardly to avoid crawling into Peeta as I get my packs off and try to get comfortable in the tiny space.

"I think," I say to Peeta as I try to find room for my legs, "that I am actually rather jealous of your embarrassing lack of height right now."

"Now," jokes Peeta with a smile, "and probably later on, when Thresh is trying to pick the biggest target to throw his spear at."

"Eh, I think you're about as wide as I am tall, so that's going to be a close one-"

"Cato and Clove aren't at the Cornucopia anymore," Katniss interrupts, even though her voice isn't even a little annoyed. It's kind of dim in our little hideaway, but I think that she might even be smiling. "But Marvel still thinks we should stay here. What do you think?"

Peeta looks away from me and turns his eyes to Katniss, giving her that adoring puppy look- like she's everything that'll ever matter in the world- and agrees. "He's right. It's too late in the Games to run away now, I suppose."

"Tomorrow, I say that we walk for a while and at least look for a better place to stay," I say. I yawn and realize that I'm tired. "It'll be better than doing nothing, and maybe we can stumble across some stupid tribute." _Cato_. "Now, if you don't mind…"

"Sleep, Marvel," says Katniss, settling in a few feet to my right. "Peeta and I can keep watch."

I nod and take out my sleeping bag. It's warm enough that I don't actually cover up with it, instead positioning it behind my head and using it as a pillow. I haven't slept since before Rue's death- since a while before Rue's death- so I'm practically dead on my feet, even if now's the first time that things are really quiet enough for me to notice. While I want to stay awake and eavesdrop on what Katniss and Peeta are saying, I can't keep my eyes open to save my life. I'm out within seconds.

When I wake up again, I'm hungry. Without anything major to worry about, I fully feel the impact of living on soup packets, jerky, and dried fruit for the last three or four days.

Peeta has dosed off now, but Katniss starts a bit when I sit up.

"How long have I been out?" I ask.

"Six, maybe seven hours," she says. "You can go back to sleep if you want. There's nothing going on here."

I try to stretch, but, unfortunately, our shelter hasn't gotten any bigger. I'm going to have to get out and walk soon. Running into Cato is better than dying because of lack of blood-flow to the legs.

"Nah," I say, shaking my head. "I'll grab something to eat, and then... I don't know. Sharpen my spears."

"Do you always do that when you're bored?" Katniss asks, handing me her bag, probably because it's right between us and easiest to reach. I shrug as I unzip the thing.

"Kind of, yeah." I pull out a bag of meat that looks half spoiled and make a face as I set it off to the side. "Bored. Worried. Distracted." I grab something kind of like a potato, sniff it, and put it next to the meat. Good lord, I'm surprised Katniss didn't start gathering freaking rabbit terds before Rue and I found her. They look more appetizing than some of this shit. "Not much else to do in District One."

"You said your family was wealthy, though," Katniss says. She looks confused. "That's _really_ all you had to do?"

I run into some kind of leaves next. My mother always tried to get me to eat leafy shit, telling me that it was healthy, but I always figured that anything rabbits eat on a regular basis isn't meant for human consumption.

"Pretty much," I say, looking up at Katniss for a second. "I spent most of my time at the academy, so it was pretty much seminars and training constantly. Eight to five, six days a week. All I really _could _do when I was bored was sharpen spears. You know, to make it look like I was actually doing something."

Katniss almost laughs at that.

"You're kind of lazy, aren't you?"

"Nah. I actually stayed at the Academy later than most people. I just didn't like bothering with anything other than spear-throwing. I either sucked at- by District One standards, anyway- or hated everything else, so I'd go out of my way to get out of it."

"Is that why you were sleeping at the hammock station?"

"Yeah. Or at least why I was _trying _to sleep," I say, pushing away the annoying urge to cry I feel when I think of Rue ambling over there that day to talk with me. "I kept getting interrupted." I turn to look at her a bit more closely and grin. "You came after me with a spear."

"I'd forgotten I was even holding it," Katniss says, smiling a little with her eyes. "I just saw you with Rue and imagined it was Prim you were reeling in instead. Although now I guess I know you were never reeling Rue in. Sorry."

"You really weren't that far off," I admit. "In thinking that I was reeling Rue in, I mean. The first few times she tried talking to me, she reminded me so much of my sister that I'd imagine different ways to kill her. Try to keep myself unattached, so that I'd be able to take her out in the arena." I glance at Katniss to make sure she isn't running away- again, not sure why I give a shit- then look back down when I see that she's more interested than disgusted. I let out a relieved breath. "It didn't work."

"I don't think anyone could've resisted Rue," Katniss says gently, like she knows that I'm senselessly worried about her reaction. "She was like Prim in that way."

I hesitate for a moment before saying, "You should tell me about your sister."

I don't know why I bother asking that question. I'm not excessively interested in learning about Primrose Everdeen, and I don't need the extra sponsors right now. I want to say that I know talking about her will make Katniss happier, but I don't get why that would make a difference either.

No matter what my reason for asking the question is, I know right away that I've hit the mark as far as getting Katniss to talk goes. She gets this perfect look on her face and sits up just a little bit straighter, not needing any real push to start talking. Prim is a safe subject, apparently. Not one of Katniss's secrets, but something that she wants to share with everyone.

"I hardly know where to start," says Katniss slowly. "Prim is... sweet, gentle. She's prettier than I am-" I open my mouth to protest, but Katniss hurries on, saying, "I mean it. She's got the softest blonde hair and these beautiful blue eyes, and... and she kind of stands like Rue." Her eyes find mine. "You know how Rue would always stand on her tiptoes, with her arms out in front of her, like she was ready to take flight?"

"Like she was an angel," I say, feeling choked up and hating myself for how weak I've gotten.

"I've never thought of it like that," Katniss admits, her voice getting softer as she speaks, "but it's true. Rue and Prim both. They're angels. Prim acts like one, too. I've never heard her say a bad word about anybody, and I don't think she could hurt a fly. She almost always smiles, and when we would go into town together, she'd make me stop and talk to everyone, even people that neither of us knew."

"I bet that bugged you," I say jokingly, imagining Katniss's cute little sister chatting it up with some shopkeeper while Katniss watches on from a feet feet off, arms crossed and scowling. Prim must be pretty damn potent if she can make friends without Katniss scaring them off.

"I was fine," Katniss says defensively, the corners of her lips turning up just a little bit. "I may have... skulked off a little, but I really did like seeing Prim have so much fun. I think I loved her more every time I saw her get a greeting out of Peeta's mom or a hug from the butcher. I don't know anyone Prim couldn't make smile." Katniss pauses for a second, then ducks her head and adds, "She's kind of like you in that way."

It doesn't take a genius to know that being compared with Prim Everdeen is _huge _coming from Katniss. So huge that I don't have to fake the smile that spreads across my face at what is probably the most genuine compliment that I will receive in my entire life.

"I doubt that," I say, rolling my eyes. Absentmindedly, I pull out a tin that I'm hoping holds crackers, but winds up being filled with blueberries instead. I glance at them warily, but then figure that they're better than eating leaves or plant roots. I grab a handful to pop into my mouth before I elaborate, but a familiar beeping stops me mid-motion.

Katniss and I exchange a look, but I put the berries back in the tin and toss all of Katniss's junk back into her backpack as she goes to grab the parachute. When Katniss scoots back into the shelter, I move a little to see what we got.

My eyes widen a little when I see what she's carrying.

There's food. Stuff that's supposed to be filling and high-calorie, like our mentors are trying to stuff us up so we don't need to eat for a while. A huge slab of meat, buns that look to be loaded up with nuts and berries and stuff, and a couple baked potatoes, slathered with butter. All of this is served up on a big metal plate, and tucked off to the side is a little card with my name on it.

I'm confused. This had to have costed _a lot _of money, and maybe I'm grateful for the food, but really... I did have things to eat, even if they were less than savory. I don't get why anyone would splurge for something like this.

I shake my head. I'm not going to complain.

"This is from your mentor," Katniss says hesitantly, handing the heavy silver plate to me. I balance it on my lap and grab the note as she retakes her place beside me. I see Peeta sit up, too, his eyes still crinkled with sleep.

"Wha's that smell?"

"Marvel got food," Katniss says, moving over a little so he can see. Peeta's eyes widen dramatically at the feast that I've been sent.

While I want to start digging in right away and not stop until the entire plate is gone, I pick up the card from Gloss instead. Cautiously, I peel open the note, half expecting the thing to be a nice little paragraph underscoring my stupidity and disgracefulness with various curse words and colorful adjectives.

Thankfully, it's just a few short sentences.

_Don't be an asshole with the food. Oh? And eat the girl's meat. You need the calories. _

I let out a sigh of relief. That could have been worse. A lot worse. I don't know if he still thinks I'm lying, or if maybe he just wants the pride of being a winning mentor, but Gloss isn't chewing me out, not yet. He still gives a shit, and even though I'm a little pissed that he thinks I'd actually chow down without sharing, I'm thankful enough for the food that I don't utter a word of complaint.

"What was that about?" asks Katniss.

"Gloss was just reminding me to share," I say truthfully, rolling my eyes like I think he's ridiculous. "It's as if he thinks I have no manners." I grab a roll and sink my teeth into the soft bread, grinning broadly at the total deliciousness of it. Never in my life has anything tasted so good, and I take another huge bite just because I can. "Cm umph," I manage through a full mouth. I gesture to the plate as I swallow. "Eat."

Katniss grabs a roll right away, but Peeta hesitates, not sure that I'm including him. While I would love to make the useless bastard watch us devour all of this nutrient-loaded goodness without offering him anything, I know that Katniss would boycott eating her own portion to force me into feeding Bread Boy, so I wave him forward, figuring that I might as well make myself into the good guy if Peeta's going to end up eating anyway.

Looking a little surprised, Peeta sits up and gravitates over to my plate, joining Katniss and I as we pick over the food like a bunch of vultures going at a dead animal. Even with how much my appetite has decreased the last few days, I imagine we'll be able to finish all of it without much problem.

That is, at least, until Katniss stops us when we're halfway done and declares that it would be smartest to ration the food. I roll my eyes, but force myself to stop eating while she and Peeta- who are both actually decent at this food storage stuff- get everything put away relatively neatly.

Then we're all finished and have nothing else to do except stare at each other and not say anything. While Katniss and I get along just find when it's the two of us, Peeta is weighing us down as any obnoxious third wheel inevitably does.

"So," I finally say, looking at Peeta. "You make bread."

He hesitates for a moment, but I'm really not making fun of him. I'm desperately reaching for some kind of conversation, and even though this is probably going to make my ears bleed, it's the first thing that I can think of. Peeta must recognize this, too, because he says, "I don't usually make it personally. I run the ovens occasionally, but my oldest brother or my father is always in charge of the dough. I usually..."

"He paints the cakes," Katniss fills in. "And cookies."

If Katniss didn't look like she thought this was actually a talent a guy should be proud of having, I would probably make some comment about how degrading it is for a guy to enjoy painting cookies. At least back home it is. Although I suppose that there are guys in District One who wear pearl necklaces and paint their skin with glitter, so I guess my District's definition of what's masculine or not is probably pretty dodgy in the best of times.

Anyway, because I don't want to offend Katniss, I forgo pointing out Peeta's lack of manhood and instead decide to play up my own, since the lady seems to be into the metrosexual types.

"I've worn pink glitter, pastel blue, and a magenta scarf all within the last three weeks, and you're talking about frosting cookies as a favorite hobby, all while the girl we love sends tracker jackers after us and blows shit up," I say. "Peeta, friend, I think we're both royally screwed."

Peeta looks genuinely surprised that I'm actually joking with him- hasn't he realized that I'd start teasing my right foot if it made things more exciting?- but catches on quick. While Katniss mentioned me sharing that whole 'amazingly likable' thing with Prim, I have to grudgingly admit that Peeta probably captures the whole innocent, twelve-year-old girl type of charisma a bit more than I do.

"I agree," Peeta says, shaking his head sadly. "She's probably going to kill us both in our sleep and run away with Cato once we're out of the way."

Both Peeta and I start laughing at that, and even though I can see Katniss looking at the both of us like we're the two strangest people she's ever met, she eventually allows herself a beautiful broad smile.

"I think the whole arena just heard you two," she says, even though there's laughter in her voice. "Be quiet!"

"Fine," I say, because we are in the middle of a fight to the death, in which raucous laughter probably isn't the best of ideas. "Anyway, all of that is complete crap anyway. I'm so irresistible that you'd probably be head over heels for me if I was wearing a dress."

"Opening ceremonies, you practically were," Peeta says.

I open my mouth to say something back at that, but then Katniss goes totally still and holds up a hand. She's serious enough that both Peeta and I fall silent instantly.

Even I can hear the footsteps tearing across the forest floor. Running, it sounds like.

_Just an animal_, I think to myself, inhaling quietly. Peeta has gone stock still and has picked up his knife, holding it too tightly in his hand.

There's a stumble and the sound of something falling to the ground. A foot stomps angrily and I can hear a familiar voice fire off a steady stream of curse words under his breath, not five feet away from our shelter.

I was right. It is just an animal.

A blond, sword-wielding, insane, mentally-unstable animal who probably really, really hates me right now.

Aw, _shit._


	14. Impaired Cognitive Function

All of us freeze up.

It's three against one, or at least that's what it sounds like. I don't hear anyone else coming, and with how Clove's doing, I'm guessing that Cato is here by himself. So at first glance, a person would think it would be easy for our little group to go out and kill him. While Peeta's pretty useless, it wouldn't be difficult for me to distract Cato, and for Katniss to then finish him off with an arrow.

The only problem is that as soon as one of us leaves this shelter, Cato will know that the rest are coming. We know where he is and he doesn't know where we are, but it's impossible to sneak out of here unheard, not with the vines and dead leaves and crouching that would all be involved in getting out of this place.

Or, I suppose I should say, that the leaves and things would make it impossible for Peeta or me to sneak out quietly. Honestly, I have no doubt that Katniss could manage it. I also have no doubt that Cato isn't blind, that he'd see Katniss right away, and that he'd be close enough to kill her with his sword before she could even pull back her bowstring.

_"We do we do_?" Peeta mouths. I look to Katniss, who motions for us to stay put.

Stay put? Yeah, that's a smart idea.

I gesture at our stupid shelter. If Cato is actively looking for us, he's going to see it eventually, and then we'll be completely screwed. I swear, I'd be more subtle wearing Glimmer's freaking pink feather headdress in District Twelve than this damn shelter is right now. Or at least it sure as hell feels that way, now that we're waiting for Cato to come find and dismember us.

Or at least dismember Katniss and Peeta. After that message I left him earlier, that'd probably be too kind for me. Torture, probably. Cutting off my toes and fingers one by one. Performing a lobotomy while I'm still alive. I've heard that if you cut carefully, you can actually carve a person's brain up pretty well before they die. I can almost see Cato poking around in my head with a sword, laughing while I stand there with a smile on my face, too brain-dead to know what's going on.

I feel sick at just the thought. I pray to God Cato won't have time to take things _that _far. I mean, he isn't _actually _insane. He's just violent. I think.

"You're here somewhere," Cato says. "I _heard _you."

No one so much as breathes. Maybe he _is _blind, since he can't see our shelter.

There's a bunch of noise while Cato moves around, probably examining the surrounding area a bit more closely. I can't help but marvel at how loudly he's moving. I think back to the sound of stumbling before and wonder if something is wrong with him. That would definitely be a mark in our favor. Hell, if he would just face the wrong direction for a second, I could go after his bum leg, and…

"So that's where you're hiding," Cato says.

His voice is directed straight in our direction, and even though he's standing a bit further away than before, it's obvious that he's found us. Katniss's grip tightens on her bow, Peeta raises a knife, and I put my hands on my spear, even though Peeta's weapon is the only one we really have room to use.

Cato laughs harshly, but says nothing. I can hear him shuffling across the forest floor. Moving closer. Until he's right outside our shelter.

Three on one. That's good enough odds, right? If he comes slashing with a sword, someone will be able to get a hit on him, and then the others will finish him off. Hell, if he goes after Peeta first, no one important will even get hurt-

My thoughts come to a screeching halt when I hear a strange rubbing noise. It lasts for a second before it goes away, and there's still no Cato. For an instant, I wonder what's going on, but then I realize that something smells funny. Vaguely, I think back to when some bored rich broad decided that doing housework was fashionable. My mother vowed to learn how to cook, and she burnt _everything._

Our shelter is starting to smell like my mother's kitchen, and I really do not want to turn into something that resembles the shit that Brianna and I were forced to choke down that entire month. _  
_

"That's _smoke_," I hiss.

"Wait…" Katniss says, eyes wide. We all look towards the entrance in horror. Smoke is already winding in, and several of the vines have caught fire, only feet away from Peeta- the closest one to the entrance. I stare in shock as more vines catch fire, as even the grass below seems to be smoldering. There's no way in hell we can get out that way anymore.

Cato apparently didn't like the three-one odds so much either. I suppose burning us alive is a rather easy, efficient solution to that problem.

"Don't panic," Katniss says quickly. "If you start hyperventilating, you'll breathe in more smoke than necessary, and-"

"Pass out before the flames get to us?" I ask dryly. "Because really, I think that's better than burning alive..."

Katniss glares, and I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. Right. Cato will get three kills if we die, and while I don't care about Peeta, I am not going to give that slimy bastard the satisfaction of knowing that he offed me like _this. _Hell, I have to do this for poor Katniss. If I don't, there'll be 'Girl on Fire' jokes running rampant through the Capitol for decades. There's no way that I'm going to let someone like her fizzle out into a cheesy punch line.

I look around, searching for some way to escape. The fire's climbing a bit, and I can feel the heat start to cling uncomfortably to my skin, the smoke burning my nostrils. Then my eyes settle on the second fallen tree, the one that's farther away from the fire. It's pretty thick and has to be heavy, but moving it is also our only chance of getting out of here.

"Peeta," I say, gesturing to the tree. "Help me get this out of the way."

Peeta immediately gets to his feet- he's short enough that he can actually walk without doing much more than ducking his head- and wordlessly takes his place beside me. Katniss must have the utmost faith in us, because she's moving all the bags and weapons close together, so that we can run quickly if- _when_- the tree's rolled out of the way.

Both Peeta and I start shoving at the huge tree. Nothing happens at first, even though we're obviously pushing as hard as we can. After a few seconds, though, Peeta's end starts shifting, just a little bit. As fucked up as it is, I almost stop and stare at him in shock.

He has to be _at least _as strong as Cato to be getting that thing to budge at all. How in the hell did _that _happen?

Peeta doesn't seem surprised at his progress, and keeps pushing as hard as he can. I join in again, moving closer to him so that we're both working to move one part of the tree instead of separately trying to get the whole thing out of the way. The smoke is rising higher, and at one point I have to take a second to bring my shirt over my mouth so I can breathe. Behind me, Katniss creeps closer, away from the flames, her stiffness a silent plea for Peeta and I to hurry up.

When we have maybe a two foot opening between the tree and the hill to crawl through, the fire is close enough that we're forced to stop. Since Cato's probably outside to make sure that we stay where we're supposed to, Katniss gestures for me to go first. I sling my pack out through the hole, then grab my spear and awkwardly tuck it under my arm as I shimmy up, pushing hard with my arms. When I feel my torso finally squeeze through the small space, I'm tempted to take a deep, gasping breath, but the air here is still thick with smoke. All around our shelter, I can see flames licking up hungrily; it's been so dry lately that Cato's little fire has turned huge pretty quickly.

Hurriedly, knowing that Katniss and Peeta still have to get out, I push myself out of the shelter the rest of the way, kicking the tree back a bit further. It doesn't move much, but Peeta's going to need all the room he can get.

_Why in the hell do I care? _a little voice asks.

_Katniss won't leave without Peeta_, I think.

Then I wonder why I care about that, either, quickly come to the conclusion that talking to myself is a confirmation of my madness, and push those extremely untimely thoughts from my head. Quickly, I toss my bag over my shoulder and switch my grip on my spear so that I'm holding it properly, before hopping off the tree and to the ground.

I move to look for Cato, but apparently looking is overrated; a sword comes down from behind me before I even get the chance to turn my head. Reflexively, I hold up my spear and deflect the hit, then jump backwards to give myself a little room to work with.

Glancing up, I see Peeta struggling to get his broad shoulders through the little space we made. I have no idea how Katniss got him to go first or why in the hell he agreed to it, but I only have a second to think before Cato takes another swing at me. I shield myself with my spear and back up further. Worriedly, I chance a look over my shoulder.

I'm moving dangerously close to the growing fire.

"I almost expected more of a challenge from you," Cato says. He's got his shirt over his mouth like I did, trying to keep out smoke, and it makes his voice rather frightening. "Then again, I suppose _you'd _be the last one to know to keep your mouth shut in the Hunger Games. I heard you from half a mile away."

If my throat wasn't feeling too raw to speak, I would first point out that Peeta was laughing just as loudly as I was, and then I would ask if he knows what a hypocrite is. As it is, I don't feel like talking, not with smoke making me sick and dizzy and my voice probably ugly and raspy.

Hoping that Cato's distracted, or at least waiting for a reply, I thrust my spear towards his heart. Of course, he bats my hit away without blinking. In the same motion, he raises his sword again and drives it towards my neck. I duck, but can feel his blade slice through the air above my head.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta finally heave himself up out of the shelter. Something else comes out right away, and I want to curse when I see Katniss lifting the last pack out for him. For god's sake, it's a few measly supplies! Doesn't she know how much more important she is?

Cato slashes at me again, but his attacks aren't as anally accurate as I'd expected. He's still got a bandage around his arm from where I hit him before, and now I see that there's another one on his left leg. It looks like something took a chunk out of it. Whatever happened, the injury is messing him up just enough that I actually stand half a chance in this fight.

I try stabbing at him, but Cato blocks it again, then, while I'm off-balance, he throws several strikes at me in quick succession. I'm forced further backwards, closer to the fire.

Behind Cato, I notice that the shelter is halfway burnt by now, the flames outside almost reaching the opening Peeta and I made. Katniss isn't coming up yet, but Peeta is still waiting, yelling for her. Cato must hear, because his eyes glow with satisfaction.

"Looks like your girlfriend's struggling a bit. Pity you didn't let her come out first. I much rather would have watched you burn-"

"How's Clove doing?" I rasp out, cutting him off. I was smart to not talk before. It hurts, not to mention that I'm beginning to feel like I'm going to pass out if I don't get out of here soon. Screw beating Cato. He won't have to even touch me if I can't get away from this damn smoke. "I cut that bitch pretty deep. I would have rather killed her, nice and slowly, too, but-"

I barely get my spear up on time to keep Cato from cutting my head off.

Finally, at the edge of my vision, I catch a glimpse of Peeta yanking Katniss out of our shelter. I think she's passed out. Peeta looks at me, and I jerk my head at him, gesturing for them to run. He does, just as Cato comes at me again, faster and more seriously than before. I think the smoke is starting to get to him, too, and he wants to finish this fight as soon as he can.

I jerkily block swing after swing, but even though I struggle to keep my ground, Cato bulls me backwards. Towards the flames. I can feel the heat on my back, but there isn't shit I can do about it. It feels like I have to choose between burning to death and letting Cato kill me, and I'm not really too keen on either one of those less than savory options.

Finally, Cato manages to catch me off guard and swings for my feet. I jump up to avoid him, but between trying not to get my legs cut off and working to stay out of the fire, I lose my footing when I come down and land hard on the ground, my hair not a foot from the flames and Cato standing above me, everything about his posture victorious. I swallow, but it turns into a cough instead.

"Your fireworks were nice," Cato says. I can feel him smirking. "But I think that mine will do a bit more damage by the time these Games are through."

Then he raises his sword and brings it down hard. I barely knock it off track with my spear. The blade still cuts along my chest, but it doesn't pierce my heart like Cato had been hoping for. Annoyed as hell, he kicks my spear from my hands before I have the chance to recover, then brings his boot down hard on my right arm.

I can feel the bone snap. I can't hold back my scream, but my throat is burning so badly that it comes out as a terrible, desperate hack instead. Cato booms out a laugh and lifts his sword again, but I roll out of the way and he winds up sticking it in the ground instead of my body. Gritting my teeth, I use the second that it takes Cato to tear his sword out of the ground to yank Glimmer's sword out of my belt with my left hand. I can hardly see, with how the smoke is irritating my eyes, and I doubt Cato can either, because he doesn't seem very concerned about my new weapon.

Desperately, I stab towards his injured leg. Cato howls when the sword miraculously hits its mark. I can feel him collapse onto one knee, and I roughly yank the narrow sword out of his leg. Cato's down, my vision is going black, and I can hardly breathe. Clumsily, I swing again, but come up with nothing but air. I blink several times and focus just enough to see Cato struggling to his feet, already collecting himself enough to take another hack at me.

A lot of people may think I'm stupid, but I fully realize that even with his leg, Cato could tear me apart. Dazedly, I struggle to my feet just as Cato does the same. Thankfully, even though I've got a fucked up arm and a bloody gash stretching across my chest, I do not have a sword hole in my leg. Cato lunges for me, but he's so off balance that he misses completely. I stumble away from him, coughing and hacking beyond belief. He doesn't chase me.

I don't know how long it is before I finally get into clear air, but the burning in my throat is still there, even away from the smoke. To make things even peachier, my head is absolutely pounding. Peeta and Katniss are nowhere in sight.

I need water. That's one obvious thing. I also need… God, I don't even know what I need. Something for my arm. Something to stop the bleeding from where Cato raked his sword across my chest. Something to keep me _alive_, because I'm dying. I'm dying and it isn't even painless or instant and-

I screech to a halt. Too slowly, my eyes focus on the enormous person who is currently watching me. Thresh blurs and spins, but I have a gut feeling that he's more than just an illusion produced by my painfully muddled, most likely insane mind.

Without saying a word- or making a move to kill me- Thresh points. I blink several times. Maybe he _is_ a figment of my imagination. I don't think so, but why in the hell would he point? I guess his little redheaded friend might want to kill me instead… maybe he's leading me to her. I suppose he is from the same district as Rue, and she didn't like killing. It could be an outer district thing, this aversion to murder, in which case it would make sense that he'd want his partner to take me out. I wonder if I could take her, with my head all muddled-

"_Go_," Thresh says. He sounds furious. I didn't do anything. Maybe he's mad at himself. For his weakness. Not being able to kill? Yeah… he's pissed because he can't kill me. Or maybe he's not real. I sway a bit because walking is easier than standing still, and my shirt feels really, really wet.

Blood loss. Smoke inhalation. Extreme pain. I had lessons about all those… they impair cognitive function. So chances are, I suppose one could call me crazy. Hallucinations seem like something that would result from a problem with the brain.

"Are you real?" I blurt.

"Yes," says Thresh. He walks forward and gives me a push, glancing over his shoulder as he does so. Like he's looking for someone. Waiting for his partner to come? "Now _go_. Katniss is that way." Then he points again.

"But-" I start. I shake my head. Apparently instructors were right. My cognitive function is sufficiently impaired. I'm confused. "Why are you not killing me?"

"I saw you," he says. Saw me. There's lots of times he could have seen me. "You said you would have died for Rue. My District thinks so, too. So go. I help you this one time. For Rue. No more owed, District One. You understand?"

Oh. When I got the parachute.

"Uh-huh," I say, answering his question about understanding. Really, I think I do. Understand him, I mean. Although I am a bit lost as to why he would go _this _far to repay a debt to me for something I didn't do for him, I try to act like I get it completely. After giving him an appreciate nod, I wordlessly follow Thresh's directions and pray that he's right and that he isn't lying and that I'm really not going to die.

Thresh disappears behind me, but I keep trudging forward, staggering more and more with each step.

After a bit, I realize that I now have an aversion to killing Thresh. That's annoying. District Five and Clove I can take out easily- Cato more than-, but after that Thresh is… I don't know what he is, but he at least tried to save my life and that means he's good. Good like Peeta, who I also don't want to kill half so much as I used to. Katniss likes him and good people don't deserve to die, and good God, I'm going to pretend that I didn't just admit to not wanting Peeta dead.

Impaired cognitive function my ass. This is much, much worse.

Oh well. I was going crazy anyway. Now I'm just going bat-shit crazy instead. My father always encouraged me to go all the way in everything I do, though I doubt he really considered this possibility. Then again, he probably already thought I was mad. He was probably right. I wonder if there's a word for when a crazy person is made crazier by outside factors that are beyond their control.

I hope this isn't permanent. The trouble focusing. Or the black spots in my eyes. God, and the headache. Especially that. Because if it is, I'll probably wind up worse than Annie Cresta. Although she is rather pretty. Maybe if I get out and Katniss decides I'm too crazy for her, I'll go after Annie instead. We can be mad together. That sounds like a rather good idea-

"Marvel!"

I jerk to attention. Peeta, who had been pointing a knife at me, lets out a relieved breath and lowers it. My eyes go from him to Katniss, who actually yelled my name. Her arm is burnt terribly, but I don't know how badly because I really _can't _focus.

"I'm going to pass out," I announce. I see Katniss's eyes widen as she takes in my appearance, and then I think her expression softens into one of guilt and worry.

"I'm so sorry. The smoke knocked me out and I just woke up. Peeta wouldn't let me go anywhere, but I've been so worried," Katniss says. She hovers her hand anxiously over my bloody chest, and, not realizing my arm has been stepped on by a wild beast, grabs it to pull me over to her. I half groan, half scream, and Katniss lets go immediately. "Sorry… I.. sit down. Please. You'll be fine."

"Know some outer district Voodoo?" I ask, taking her advice and sitting myself next to Peeta. "Because I think I'm going to need it."

"I wish," Katniss says. "Prim was always so good at this… I… just try to sleep. I know what I'm doing."

It really, really looks like she doesn't have the faintest idea, but I'm too miserable to protest. Praying that she's not going to accidentally kill me, I lean back in the grass, being careful not to move my arm any more than I have to. I'm exhausted, but I feel like shit to the point where I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep.

I don't. As Katniss tries getting my jacket off over my broken arm, the pain and blood loss conveniently knock me unconscious instead.


	15. More Insane Than Genius

The first thing that I do when I wake up is groan. Loudly. I can hear footsteps rushing over to my side, can feel a dry hand on my forehead, but I hardly notice because I feel like absolute shit. My arm is stiff and throbbing, and even without looking I know that it's swollen beyond belief, not to mention my chest hurts almost as badly, stinging and burning something terrible.

"Marvel? Are you awake?"

That's Peeta's voice.

"No _shit," _I mutter, not bothering to open my eyes. I don't know how long I was out, but it wasn't long enough. Maybe if I don't move, if I keep my eyes shut, I'll manage to fall asleep. Or maybe, even better, all of this will turn out to be one terrible dream, and it'll go away, and my right arm won't be broken-

Right arm. Broken.

I jerk into a sitting position the second that the terrible reality sinks in, sending Peeta jumping backwards. He must have been leaning over me, but I hardly care. I can barely feel the terrible strain that moving so quickly put on my chest, don't notice the way that my head is spinning, because my right arm is broken. My right arm, my throwing arm, my beautiful, precious throwing arm, is _broken_. Snapped. Useless.

With wide eyes, I turn my head to look at the arm and groan. Katniss must've fashioned some kind of splint for it, using sticks and a cotton bandage, but I can still make out that it isn't quite set at the right angle. Meaning it's bad. Although I hardly needed to see it to figure that out. The cracking sound it made when Cato stepped on it was a pretty good clue, not to mention the pain, and swelling, and _pain…_

"Marvel, lay back down," Peeta hisses.

"I can't," I say. I think my chest is going to split apart. It feels like it. I glance down and see that Katniss cut my shirt away and bandaged me up, but blood is already soaking through the white cotton. I ignore it. "I have to kill Cato."

"No, you don't," Peeta says, taking a couple long steps over to me and grabbing onto my left arm. "Just sit back down, and-"

"_HE BROKE MY ARM!"_ I hiss, and Peeta steps back immediately. I run my left hand through my hair and let out a low breath that turns into a stupid, weak, pathetic sob. "I have to kill him. Nothing less than death will work. He broke my arm, so I'll break his ugly head."

I glance at my arm again and try to lift it. I don't even come close. It hurts too badly. Even if I could, or if I was left-handed, the cut across my chest wouldn't let me bend my shoulder back enough to throw hard anyway.

I let out a low breath and close my eyes tightly. I feel like I want to cry. To sit down and curl up into a ball and sob like a girl. Through everything, I always thought I'd have my spears. Throwing them was the _one thing _I was good at growing up, the only thing that could take my mind off my asshole parents, the thing had made me so confident going into the Games in the first place. No matter what, I knew that I had a chance of winning if I had my spears with me.

Now I'm screwed. Completely and totally screwed. I can't throw or lift or probably even hold a spear anymore. I doubt I can use Glimmer's sword. A knife, maybe, if I tried to use my left hand. District Five could take me out, but I wouldn't be _completely _useless.

Hell. Of course I'd be completely useless.

All because of Cato.

He's a dead man. If I don't do anything else in these Games, I will kill him, even if it means biting out his intestines with my _teeth-_

"Marvel, please calm down," Peeta says. I look over at him and realize that he's creeping over closer to me, moving hesitantly like he's worried I'm going to shove him away again. For once, it's not necessary. Bread Boy isn't the one I'm pissed at.

"I... I'm done," I say, my voice quivering with rage. I exhale quickly and glance at Peeta. "Sorry. Uh… where's Katniss?"

Peeta doesn't say anything for a few moments, looking at me cautiously to make sure that I've actually calmed down. I haven't. I'm still angry beyond belief. I'm just in too much pain to keep making a big deal out of it.

Once Peeta realizes that I won't snap at him again, he bites his lip and looks out at the forest.

"She went to look for a place where we can take you. Somewhere better than the last one."

I blink at him dully.

"What's the point? Maybe my chest will get a little better, but my arm would need a surgeon to set it, and then probably a few weeks to heal after that. We could wait a year and it wouldn't improve any."

"We're hoping for sponsors."

While I wouldn't have believed him before all this started, I decide that Peeta does genuinely like me enough to want me alive for as long as possible. Even Katniss, who hated me at the start of all this, has been starting to trust me. Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have had any idea why either of them would bother 'hoping' for something that would save my life, but now I almost kind of understand.

I also would have told Peeta that the sponsors won't send anything if they haven't already, but I don't. He's trying, and although I don't have a flying fuck of an idea when that started to matter, it does.

If I do wind up surviving the 74th Hunger Games, Gloss is going to get me a shrink when I get home. I've got no doubt in my mind about it. I'll _need _a shrink if I get home. A shrink, a white padded room, and mad Annie Cresta's phone number.

"Well," I say to Peeta. "So am I." I think of something and ask, "How long has Katniss been gone?"

"A few hours," he answers. "I think she's looking by the river, so we're closer to a water source."

"That's at least two miles from here." I shake my head. "Didn't either of you listen when I said that we _can't _run that far away? It'll piss everyone off, and we'll probably get attacked by mutts or, with your mentally deficient stylist's genius inspiration, hot lava or fire or some other stupid-"

"Katniss thinks we'll be fine," Peeta cuts in.

My first thought is that she's an idiot. Then I remember how bad Cato and Clove are right now, both seriously injured. Our little trio isn't too much better, with only one real fighter left. Thresh and the redhead are probably the last pair that anyone wants to win, and right now they could easily take any of us. Katniss is right, I suppose. The Gamemakers will give us and District Two at least a couple days to recuperate, especially after how much happened yesterday.

Cato and Clove are from District Two. They're favorites, and they are amusing together, in a violent, slightly frightening way. Then, of course if Katniss would win with Peeta or I, it would be a slice of the love triangle making it out, which is what everyone is hoping for. Thresh and the redhead, though, they're just together out of necessity. They'd get out and never speak again, more likely than not.

I really don't think that anybody wants that. It'd be boring and unexciting compared to the other possible pairs. While that'll make things damn difficult for the two of them, I'm not complaining. Katniss is right. We will be fine. It doesn't feel right, going against something that's been drilled into my head for so long, but right now I'm feeling just shitty enough that I don't argue.

"Alright then."

We lapse into silence. I gingerly lower myself into a sitting position and rest my broken arm on one of my knees, staring at it as if I could somehow _will _the bone back into place. I don't get very much time to test out the technique. Katniss slips back into the clearing after only a few minutes. She looks surprised to see me awake, but her expression quickly changes into a bright smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Marvel," she says. "Thank god. You've been out for almost a day. I was getting worried that you weren't going to wake up."

"I wish I _hadn't_ woken up," I say, trying and failing to sound like I'm just joking.

"You can rest again really soon," Katniss says. She isn't thick. She's just blatantly ignoring my bad attitude. "I found a cave just a couple miles away, and it's not a real tough walk. You can make it that far, right?"

"How about we try, and if I pass out any time along the way, you'll take that as a 'no'?"

"You'll be fine," she says. Her eyes go to where my busted arm is hanging limply by my side. "I- I promise, okay?"

I can't really disagree with her, so I lightly say, "Okay".

We leave right away. Peeta loads himself down with most of our bags, and Katniss takes point with her bow, looking determined to take on anything anything that comes our way. We're silent for a while, but then Katniss must let her curiosity get the best of her because she asks, "What happened between you and Cato?"

Not a question my pride wants me to answer.

"He kicked my ass. End of story."

"If that was the end of the story, you'd be dead," Katniss says, giving me a look that says she'll force the story out of me if I don't tell her willingly. The expression reminds me so much of my little sister- the first time anything Katniss has done that makes me think of Breeze- that I have to blink a few times to remind myself that I'm not in District One and that they're two _totally _different people.

I sigh, like I'm doing Katniss a huge favor, and then say, "Cato got me to fall after we fought for a while. I blocked a couple of attacks with my spear, he got pissed, kicked it out of my hand, and then stepped on my arm. After that, he thought I was dead and let his guard down a bit. I managed to get Glimmer's sword out of my belt and stab him with it left-handed, which is how I got away. I staggered around in the forest for a while after that, moping and waiting for death, but then Thresh found me and told me where you guys were at."

Katniss's eyes fly to mine.

"_What_?"

I smile at her reaction. I'd deadpanned that last part on purpose. A person would think that I'd be tired of amazing people after doing it all my life, but, surprisingly enough, it really doesn't get old.

"Thresh. I ran into him, but he just… helped me. He heard you and me talking about Rue a couple days ago, after I got that parachute, and said he didn't want to owe me anymore."

Katniss's eyes are wide when she murmurs, "So he saved your life…"

"Unfortunately." I glare at nothing in particular. "Except he repaid me for something I didn't do for him, and now I somehow have the stupid notion in my head that it wouldn't be right for me to kill him." My eyes find Katniss. "How've you lived with it for sixteen years?"

"Lived with what?"

"A conscience."

Peeta laughs lightly, and Katniss and I exchange smiles. Something about that, how our eyes connect for a second and how genuinely amused she seems, makes me feel like I'm not hurt at all, like I could fly if I wanted to. It only lasts for a second, but it's enough to keep me smiling, even when Katniss looks away and forces her lips back into a straight line.

"It's hard, hard work," says Peeta seriously. "And I'm afraid that you also picked about the worst time to get one."

"Yeah," I say. My breathing's getting a bit ragged, and I'm really tempted to ask how much farther we have, but my manly pride takes over and I keep my expression light. "Tell me about it."

"I can't believe that Thresh did that, though," says Peeta. "That's amazing. I've never seen anything like that in the Games before."

"We've never seen two victors either, and it sounds like that's probably going to happen. I think everything is changing this year," Katniss says, her voice quiet like she isn't sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

"True," Peeta agrees.

Our quiet conversation trails off. With Cato and Clove out and Thresh not eager to kill me- or Katniss either, I'd suppose- being quiet isn't quite as important as it would usually be. I think all of us realize this, but we simply have nothing to say. I wish someone would come up with something though. The lack of other noise brings attention to my faltering, uneven steps and my too-loud breathing. I can see Peeta pretending not to notice, but Katniss keeps looking back at me and then forward again, like she's physically keeping herself from forcing me to take a break.

Finally she loses it and says, "Marvel, you can sit down if you want."

"How much further?" I ask. I wish I had a sling for my arm. All the bouncing isn't helping it. Maybe Katniss or Peeta could make one for me once we get to the cave. Katniss or Peeta. Not me, of course. God. I hate not being able to do things myself. Being this _needy _makes me feel frustratingly weak.

I wonder how Peeta deals with it all the time.

"Only a quarter mile or so," Katniss says.

"Then let's keep going. I might not be able to get up again if we sit down and rest."

Katniss nods, and we keep walking. She's right, at least. The river isn't that much further away. After Peeta helps me across- which is probably the most humiliating five seconds of my life- it's only another five minute walk before we reach a real cave that thankfully _can't _be burnt down.

Katniss takes a few minutes to camouflage the entrance while Peeta and I make ourselves comfortable inside. Or, well, as not-uncomfortable as a person can get with a broken arm and a foot-long gash across their chest. I have to grit my teeth just to sit down, and when I move my left arm a bit too far up to get a few knives and Glimmer's sword out of my belt, I actually have to hiss to keep from crying out.

"You okay?" asks Peeta.

I give him a disbelieving look. He has to be kidding.

"Never mind," he says quickly. "Do you need anything?"

"Other than a hovercraft out of here?"

"Yeah." Peeta laughs. "Other than that."

Katniss slides back into the cave.

"I think that'll do for now," she says with a backwards glance over her shoulder. Her face is twisted into a grimace, making it pretty clear that she isn't satisfied at all.

"I'm sure it's fine," Peeta says as Katniss kneels in front of me. I raise a brow, but she ignores me as she puts a hand on my forehead. After a moment, she sighs in relief.

"No fever yet, so I don't think you're infected. How's your throat? It sounded like you inhaled a lot of smoke judging by how you were coughing yesterday."

"A little rough, but fine," I say. "And your arm? It was burnt."

"You still had the medicine I'd given you before," she says, waving off my comment. "So don't worry about me." Katniss leans back on her heels and frowns at my chest. "You're lucky that wasn't any deeper. If it would've cut through muscle…"

"I'd be screwed. Please don't remind me."

"Sorry." Katniss reaches into one of her bags and pulls out a roll of bandages. "Just let me fix your chest, and I'll be done. Your arm is about as good as I think I'm going to be able to get it, but don't worry about that… there'll be sponsors…"

"Of course," I say, but really I'm thinking, _With what? A new arm? _

Katniss tries to smile at my effort to placate her, but it fades when her eyes go up to my obviously still bloody chest. Biting her lip, she reaches up and starts undoing the bandages, keeping her eyes on her hands. The bloody cloth isn't coming off as painlessly as I'd like- it's sticking, and, to phrase things bluntly, it feels like Katniss is peeling off my skin layer by layer- but I find myself forcing a smirk anyway.

"At least you have something to thank Cato for," I comment carelessly.

Katniss looks up and locks eyes with me for a second, her cheeks going red when she realizes how close we are. "And what would that be?"

"An excuse to feel me up."

Peeta starts chuckling, but I almost regret saying anything when Katniss gives me a speculative look, like she's wondering whether or not it would be too extreme of a reaction to smack me in the chest or something equally as cruel. Finally, she thankfully represses her wild and violent District Twelve tendencies and stiffly gets back to work.

"As much as I _appreciate _that," Katniss says carefully, "I'm actually rather disappointed that Cato didn't keep you in that smoke a little longer. I think a little more damage to your throat would have done you good."

"Then I'd just have to move close enough to whisper," I shoot back. "Which I'm sure was what you had in mind…"

"I was actually hoping it would keep you from talking at all," Katniss says as she finishes taking off the bandages. I physically have to keep myself from looking down. I don't want to see how bad it is. "But I'm actually starting to think that might be impossible, anyway."

"Really? Because I can think of a few things you could do to shut me up," I say, keeping my voice light and flirtatious even though even Katniss looks strangely pale. I don't even think she hears me. "Now probably isn't the best time for flirting, is it?"

"I'm actually very, very close to throwing up," Katniss admits as she starts carefully putting on the clean bandages. She shakes her head. "It's really not that bad- your arm's what I'm worried about- but… I hate stuff like this. My mother is actually the person who people in District Twelve go to if they're sick or hurt- the less wealthy people, anyway. She's wonderful at this stuff. My sister always helps her, and I…. well, if the patient is too bad, I run away."

I laugh out loud.

"That makes me feel better, Doctor Everdeen."

Katniss ties off the bandage and scowls at me.

"You shouldn't speak so disrespectfully to someone who's trying to help you."

Widening my smile, I catch one of her hands with my good one and hold it up gently, catching Katniss's eyes and saying, "My apologies, Katniss. I meant to say that I fully trust in your abilities-" She starts kind of smiling. "-and that even if you do unintentionally kill me, I'll at least die in the presence of an angel."

Peeta and I both start laughing, and Katniss tears her hand away in mock offense, shaking her head like she still can't believe me. I actually think she mutters something under her breath about it not being unintentional if I don't shut my mouth soon, which gets me laughing harder, until it starts hurting my chest and I'm forced to stop.

"Are you okay?" Katniss asks when she sees my face, now totally concerned. I roll my eyes and take a couple shaky breaths.

"As long as you don't go out of your way to kill me," I say, glad when both Katniss and Peeta ignore how strained my voice is. "I should be fine. But…" I gesture to our entirely bland surroundings. "Now what?"

"Now you need to sleep," Katniss says, settling into a seat a few feet to the right of me. "You aren't going to be eating well, and it's dirty in here, so rest is the only thing I can think of that'll help keep that cut on your chest from getting infected."

I imagine how joyful it'd be to get blood poisoning or something equally as sucky on top of everything else. I think of dying slowly and painfully as the result of something much, much worse than lack of ability to defend myself.

Even though I'm really not in the mood to sleep, somehow Katniss's words enable me to round up the motivation I need to at least close my eyes and pretend. I'm tired enough that I'm not pretending for very long.

…

It's raining when I wake up. Not sprinkling, but pouring to the point where it's actually kind of ridiculous. It's cold, too. I resist the urge to start pounding my head on the wall of the cave.

First, this weather would've been nice _yesterday, _to maybe discourage Cato from his previously unknown tendency towards arson. Secondly, I get this weather in District One often enough that it becomes monotonous and depressing. While sweat has never been my friend, the sunny weather _had _been nice. Cold and wet? That's _not _nice.

"Reminds me of home," I announce as I sit up, feeling a hundred percent as shitty as yesterday. Katniss looks quickly in my direction, but Peeta is sleeping. I jerk my head towards the rain outside. "District One has crappy weather for at least eight months out of the year. I was actually _enjoying _how warm is was before."

Katniss frowns at the rain. It's seeping into our cave. I'm away from most of it, but there's a puddle forming between her and Peeta's feet that's probably rather bothersome.

"I've never been too fond of the heat, but I think I have to agree with you," she says.

"I can switch you places, if you want," I offer, nodding towards the little puddle. I really don't feel like it, but my offer's pretty empty anyway. I'm crippled. Katniss won't let me anywhere near that puddle.

"No, I'm fine." Katniss looks at me for a moment, then, changing the subject, asks, "What is District One like? I mean, other than rainy?"

"Snowy?" I try.

Katniss laughs.

"No, I mean… just what kind of jobs do people have? Or what's it look like? Your Justice Building always looks like the nicest out of all the ones in the Reapings."

I don't know why, given that I've always figured no other district has _anything _on mine, but for some reason I'm reluctant to talk about this.

"The whole district is nice, I guess." I shrug. "Or at least what I've seen of it. Actually, the Justice Building isn't even the nicest. My house, several houses... have to be worth more, even if there isn't as much money spent keeping the outside pretty. As for jobs… I know a couple families who're in business, like my father. I mean, obviously anyone real high up is Capitol, but there are people from District One who hire workers, monitor companies and factories. Then there are the people who work for those people."

Katniss chews this over for a second.

"That can't account for your whole district."

"It doesn't, but..." I start, then trail off uncertainly. I don't want to talk about District One right now, not when I hardly feel like I belong there, when I'm ninety percent sure they don't _want _me to belong there. More than that, though, there's little else I can say. Sure, I can tell Katniss about the perfume connoisseurs who waste their lives deciding what smells good or not, can talk about the middle-class morons who don't get enough to eat because they throw away their money buying pretty clothes, but I don't want Katniss to... I don't know. To think that everyone from District One is as stupid as those people.

Maybe the poorer people in the district are different, better, but I never took the time to notice anyone beneath me, to really care about them at all. I don't know what kind of jobs they have, what they're like, what type of houses they live in. I know that some of them- like Glimmer- would do extremely stupid things for money, but... that's something Panem really doesn't need to hear about.

There are a lot of things about District One that Panem really doesn't need to hear about.

"But?" Katniss prods.

"But... I can't tell you much more," I finish honestly. "You don't need to know any more about the rich, and I really _can't_ tell you about anyone else because... I haven't had the opportunity to see the parts of District One that aren't as… as _privileged _as mine. Everyone my parents invited over was an uppity rich person of some sort, and we never visited anyone else who wasn't, well... an uppity rich person. To be honest, I don't think I was allowed to even spend time with anyone significantly below my family socially."

"Marvel," says Katniss slowly. She's giving me a funny look. "You do realize that I'm not… I mean, Cinna dressed me in amazing clothes and you wouldn't have known before then, but-"

"You're poor?" I cut in. "Please, and I mean _please _do not take offense at this, but you're from District Twelve, Katniss. I'd never assumed you had money, and then when you were talking to me earlier, about finding food with your boyfriend-"

"Gale isn't-"

"-I figured that you probably weren't high up by District Twelve standards, either."

Katniss looks up and studies me for a second.

"And you just… don't care?"

"I did." Katniss gives me a look, but what can I say? At least I'm being honest. Stupid, but honest. "Now, it's… different. You don't seem poor. I haven't forgotten, but… I… I..."

I tilt my head at Katniss and remember that she isn't the only person in Panem who's listening to this. Growing up, I got very, very good at sensing when situations weren't quite right. I'd had enough businessmen come up to me to ferret out my father's weaknesses, or wannabe 'friends' or 'girlfriends' who had a little too much interest in my things, that eventually I learned to just _feel_ when I was talking to someone, doing something, or saying something I shouldn't be.

This is definitely one of those times. I'm not even sure what I was planning on saying, but... it wouldn't have been a good idea.

"Marvel?" Katniss says, her voice more prodding than questioning. It's like she thinks I'm too embarrassed to go on, which is ridiculous in itself. When have I ever been embarrassed by anything?

"But I love you," I say finally. It's the first thing I can think of. "And you keep… you keep growing so much more beautiful in my eyes the longer I know you that I can't imagine your district or upbringing making any difference to me at all."

I'm a good enough liar that Katniss doesn't doubt that that's what I was going to say all along.

"Growing more beautiful?" she asks skeptically, gesturing to her burnt, filthy clothes and ash-streaked face. She shakes her head. "Are you blind?"

I honestly consider her question, taking in Katniss's silver-gray eyes and strangely childlike face, her long black braid and the skeptical turn of her lips. She isn't goddess-like like she'd seemed before the Games, but… even though I only thought up the words as an empty compliment, I almost agree with what I said, about her being more beautiful now than before.

_If I was ever blind, _I find myself thinking, _it was _before _all this._

"No," I say. I can feel myself blushing for some godforsaken reason. "Besides, when I say you're beautiful… it's not how attractive you are- not that you aren't very, very stunning- but it's… something else… I just don't know how to describe it."

"I don't understand you at all," Katniss says, biting her lip and keeping her eyes on the ground. She fidgets awkwardly, which I'm starting to think is her go-to reaction when I talk about things like loving her, or her being beautiful, or really anything that's even vaguely romantic at all. It kind of bothers me, even though I'm not sure why. I mean, that's just what Katniss is like. It isn't me. It _can't_ be me. "Anyway..."

"This is usually where you tell me how much you love me and how attractive I am," I suggest.

Katniss blushes and looks uneasily from me to Peeta. "Marvel, I..." She lowers her gaze to the puddle that's growing at her feet and focuses on that. "I..." A deep breath. "I should see if I can't get the roof to stop leaking."

Then she gets to her feet and starts digging through our packs, ending the conversation very, very subtly. (Note sarcasm.)

"Something tells me you wouldn't have noticed the puddle if I hadn't started talking about my undying love for you," I mutter loudly enough for her to hear.

Katniss swallows hard but pretends not to her me. I don't push it. Instead, I lean my head back on the cool stone of the cave and try to finish forming the thought I hadn't wanted to voice before, about not seeing Katniss as poor. It had something to do with what happened with Rue and what's happening with Katniss... something about people like me, or like people in the Capitol, being the poor ones, because of how some things matter more than money... like human life, or family...

_Well, _I think, exhaling sharply. _There's definitely a white-padded room waiting for me back home. __  
_

I can't help but think that at least a crazy cell is better than whatever kind of place I would've been tossed into if I'd actually said something like that out loud.


	16. Irony

The rain doesn't stop, and the temperature continues to creep lower. Even though Katniss somehow fixes the worst leak in the roof, water is still trickling in everywhere until the floor is damp and it's more or less impossible to keep from getting wet. Peeta doesn't wake up, but after a while he starts shivering from the cold, drawing his coat around him more closely.

I'm more used to the weather, but I'm not doing much better, not without my coat on. I don't know where it was shoved off to, but I'm not going to ask for it. It'd hurt like hell to get on, and the only way I'd get into it in the first place is if I ask for help. There are a lot of things I'll stand for, but assistance getting dressed isn't one of them.

Katniss notices Peeta starting to get cold and reaches for her bag, pulling out her sleeping bag and resting it over him, being careful not to wake him up. After watching him for a second, Katniss starts to turn around to retake her seat, but then pauses and looks down at me. We lock eyes for a second, and I can see Katniss visibly swallow before she asks, "Are you cold?"

It's the first time she's spoken in almost an hour, and by the casual tone of voice she uses, either she has no idea how painfully awkward I found the abrupt ending to our last conversation to be, or wants to pretend that it never happened. Either way, I figure it's probably best for me to play along.

"Freezing, actually," I say. "Why? Looking for an excuse to cuddle?"

"No," Katniss says. "But a little warmth would be nice."

"I hardly agree," I say lightly. I jerk my head down towards my broken arm and go on, "I'm actually appreciating the cold now. It was bothersome at first, but all my injuries are so numb that I can now almost pretend I'm okay as long as I don't try moving. I refuse to let you warm me up."

Katniss smiles slightly. I have the feeling that she doesn't believe me at all, because she's already wandering over to where Peeta left my backpack earlier. "How are your injuries anyway?" She looks over her shoulder at me. "It doesn't look like your chest is bleeding anymore."

"I think the blood froze." She gives me a look. I roll my eyes, then honestly say, "It hurts like a bitch, but it actually has a chance of getting better without sponsor magic. If you're going to worry, worry about my arm. It _won't _heal, and I probably can't even close my fingers around a spear shaft."

Katniss yanks the sleeping bag out of my backpack and turns around, shaking her head in disproval. "Your arm won't kill you. If that gash gets infected, it might. I'm worrying about that until it's scabbed over." She walks back over to where I'm lying and puts a hand on my forehead again. "You still don't have a fever, at least not that I can notice."

"Definitely don't have a fever," I say. I lean forward and start unlacing my boots with one hand. "And any infection I get could only kill one of us." I glance up and look her in the eye for a second before she drops her gaze to her feet. "If I can't throw, it could get you killed, too."

"I can take care of myself," Katniss says. I kick my boots off.

"You shouldn't have to."

She shakes her head as she sets the sleeping bag down beside me. "I'm used to it. It's fine." Her eyes flash up to me. "Besides, I don't mind taking care of you. I owe you more than I know how to repay. This is the least I can do."

She owes me?

I furrow my brow.

"You don't have to do this to repay me," I say slowly. Even though I'm acting... even though my feelings aren't, _can't be, _real in the slightest, I respect Katniss enough- respect, not love, or adore, or... or anything romantic, just _respect_-that I want to be more to her than another ridiculous debt she's hellbent on repaying.

And truthfully? Katniss Everdeen doesn't owe me anything in the first place. Everything I've done for her has been part of a stupid act.

"What do you mean?" Katniss asks, her eyes on me as I start crawling into the sleeping bag, moving infuriatingly slowly because I'm now apparently crippled enough that getting into a glorified blanket is a challenge.

When I finally manage to get myself into a position where I'm not in too much pain, I clear my throat, and, speaking with extra dignity to make up for the embarrassing silence that accompanied my 'I'm a useless cripple show', I say, "When I asked you about Peeta before, asked if you _really _liked him, the first thing you mentioned was owing him. Then you said 'but'. As in you owe him _but_ you don't like him as much as I'd been implying."

I pause for a second, try to redirect things that I haven't thought about up until now into a somewhat organized line, and then go on, "When you talked about Gale, about him helping you so much... never once did you talk about paying him back for it. You trust him not to hold any debts against you."

"I don't get what you're saying."

"I'm saying that Peeta did something for you, and that's why you're so worried about him now. Why you forced me to leave him alive." I think about how beat up I am and wonder what kind of twisted pride is prompting me to keep talking. "I don't want you helping me for the reason you were so willing to help Peeta." Why do I care why she helps me? I shouldn't. I should be thrilled that I wasn't left out in the forest to die. "I want you to help me because you like me."

"Oh," says Katniss. She swallows, looking troubled. "I didn't mean-"

"And please don't lie to make the cripple feel better," I cut in, because even though Katniss Everdeen is usually wonderfully blunt, I also know that she has a tendency to try to protect the feelings of people she thinks are weaker than her. In this case, that'd be me.

"I wasn't going to lie. You gave me that bow," Katniss says slowly, "and did so much for Rue…" She stares at me for a moment before she starts unlacing her boots, turning her entire face away from me, so that I can't really read her features. "And you almost just died to save my life. So I do owe you a lot. More than I think I can repay."

I watch Katniss as she pulls off her boots. "Great job at making me sound like Prince Charming," I say. Which is the truth. If I didn't know better, I'd half say that I _do _really love Katniss. It sure as hell sounds like it. "But all of that is still about owing."

"I wasn't finished," Katniss says. I think she almost smiles. "I _do _like being around you. Beyond repaying you for helping me. I think you've had me smiling more in the past two days than I have in four years." She starts peeling off her soaking wet jacket. "I'm in the Hunger Games, fighting for my life, and… you make it seem not so bad. Believe me. I genuinely like you."

I smile. I've had girls crawling all over me since I was little, even complimenting me on how I _breathe_- I was rich in a district where money was everything, so it hardly mattered that they all thought I was creepy- but absolutely nothing any of them said ever affected me half as much as Katniss telling me that I make her smile.

I think I know what she means about not making the Games seem so bad, because the warmth that spreads through my chest at Katniss's words is about a million times _better_ than anything else I've ever come close to feeling before. Even outside of the arena. Maybe I'm partially insane.

Maybe, in some instances, that's okay.

"You're actually being honest," I say. It's in her eyes, and Katniss Everdeen can't lie worth shit, so I know she's got to be telling the truth.

"I can't lie," Katniss says, holding back a smile as she kneels next to me. "Now scoot over so I don't have to push you out of the way. I don't want to wind up elbowing you in the chest and splitting that gash open any more than it already is."

I almost laugh.

"You know, we were just having a sweet, heartfelt conversation, and you _had_ to ruin it by mentioning my disgusting, gory injury," I say, shaking my head regretfully. I do move over a little, and Katniss scoots into the sleeping bag, giving me a wary look when she sits herself next to me, close enough that our arms are brushing. I know she's about as far away from me as she can get, that this is entirely because she's cold and Peeta's sleeping, but a tiny part of me is thrilled that she's this close.

Because apparently sitting next to a girl makes my stomach flip.

I feel like I'm eleven again.

"I was showing concern," Katniss says, thankfully pulling my attention from my terrible fixation on the almost nonexistent point of contact between us.

"Well," I tell Katniss, "unless you were planning on getting on top of me, my chest is fine." She opens her mouth, but I go on, "Although, if you _do _want to get on top of me, I'm sure the pain would be well worth it-"

Katniss shakes her head. "I should've kept my mouth shut about liking you. Now you're getting ideas." She purses her lips against a smile.

"Oh, I was getting ideas back when you still thought I was a heartless creep," I tell Katniss, somewhat honestly. Even though this started out as… _still is_, an act, I've never denied being attracted to her. "Now you've just given me enough hope to voice them out loud."

"Hope? You mean when I told you that I like you _platonically?_" Katniss asks. She yawns and nestles into my arm just a tiny bit further. Hesitantly, because she's jumpy as a rabbit, I find myself lifting my arm and resting it around her shoulders, watching carefully as she stiffens for an almost imperceptible second before relaxing into my side and tentatively resting her head on my arm.

I take a shaky breath. This is unexpectedly pleasant … I guess I didn't realize how much I'd enjoy having Katniss here, next to me. I like how warm she is. I like being able to hold her, protect her… delude myself into thinking I'm strong enough to keep her safe.

"That's what you think," I tell Katniss. My voice sounds strange and I clear my throat so I don't sound like a lovestruck idiot. "But I'm pretty sure that, in addition to adoring my wonderful personality, you also subconsciously want me."

"You were serious before, when you said you never give up," Katniss says, shaking her head. "I thought it was annoying when you first said it."

"And now?" I ask.

"Now…" says Katniss. She trails off and takes a deep breath before she drops her eyes to her lap. "Now I think it's kind of ro-…" Katniss stops and swaps adjectives at the last second. "Sweet."

I imagine she used the word she was originally going to. It boosts my ego.

"So my persistence is paying off?" I ask.

"I wouldn't go that far," says Katniss, but there's something in her eyes that makes me wonder if she would've answered differently without Peeta sitting two feet away from us, without whatever debt she needs to repay him for hanging over her head. After a moment of silence, Katniss yawns again and snuggles a little deeper into my side, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she forces them back open.

"Have you slept since Cato mauled me?" I ask, noticing for the first time how genuinely tired she looks.

"I can't," she says. She bites her lip, then, slowly adds, "I can't close my eyes without seeing the fire coming up at me in that shelter." A pause, then hesitantly, "Well... or you. Stumbling into that clearing with blood all over. I thought you'd gotten stabbed at first."

A big, solid lump forms in my throat when it dawns on me that she was actually really worried about me.

"Well…" I say, not knowing what to say. 'You're one of the first people who I've met who cares whether I live or die'? That makes me sound pathetic. I sigh and pretend her words didn't affect me as much as they did. "You have to sleep sometime…"

Katniss looks up at me and her silvery gray eyes meet mine. "You should distract me."

She should honestly know better than that by now.

"If you insist," I smirk, moving my hand and sliding off the band that's holding Katniss's braid up. I run my fingers through her hair, grinning at the expression on her face. "I have a few things that might work..." Her eyes narrow, and I quickly take my hand out of her hair before my other arm gets broken. "Or maybe I should ask for some clarification as to what you just meant."

"I meant," Katniss says, snatching her hair tie out of my hand and immediately starting to braid it again, "that you should talk, or…"

I grab both of her hands with one of mine and force them back into her lap, lazily asking, "Tell you a story?" I don't know many real stories, but I'm a genius at coming up with them, as every instructor at the Academy knows. Katniss starts tearing her hands out of mine, but I tighten my grip. I like her hair down. I don't want her braiding it back again, not when we're just going to sit here.

"I hate having my hair down," Katniss says, glaring at me.

"And I think it's beautiful, even if it does need a good shampooing, and maybe some conditioning treatment-" She gives me a look and I shut my mouth. "Keep it down, or I won't help you sleep." She quits struggling and I let go of her wrists. "Good. Now, would you like me to tell you a story?"

Katniss takes a moment to glares at me resentfully, but then sighs and reluctantly puts her the band around her wrist. "Actually…" she says. "Yes. I do want to hear a story, but... I've told you about Prim and even a little about Gale, but I don't know anything about your family. Could I hear about your sister?"

I blink. _That _is the last thing I'd been expecting.

"My sister?" I ask, eyes widening in surprise and something almost like fear.

How in the hell am I going to do this? I can't help but remember how Katniss talked about Prim, how much love was in her voice, and I know that Breeze will never forgive me if I make her out to be anything less than Primrose Everdeen. But… what in the hell can I say that'll make my bratty little perfectionist sister sound anything close to the little girl Katniss was willing to die for?

"If you don't mind," Katniss says, her voice more hesitant now, probably in response to the absolutely lost look on my face.

"No, it's fine," I say quickly. "Really."

Then I start racking my brain for a story about Brianna.

She's so much younger than me, and we never did that much together… When she was still a little kid, I remember her coming up to me sometimes when our parents were off in other parts of the district or working ridiculous hours, and she'd tell me she was scared they weren't going to come back, that she missed them. I'd roll my eyes and tell her that Metzgers didn't feel fear and that we were too important to miss anyone- the exact words that our father had told me to tell her in that situation. Then, once I said my 'Good Marvel' piece, I'd always pop in movie or get her ice-cream, anything to make her stop almost-crying, and then I'd go out of my way to be extra ridiculous. Her perfect mask was always back into place whenever our parents got home.

I can't say any of those stories now, though. Not when I made my parents out to be so great during my interview.

Unfortunately, there isn't hardly anything good I _could _say beyond that. I really can't think of anything even vaguely brother/sisterish happening after Brianna turned nine. I bombed some aptitude test my father made me take after one of my instructors warned him that I was dumb enough to drive his company into the ground, and then he had Breeze take the test. Like everything else, she passed with flying colors and was bumped up to future head of the company. Once that happened, she was always either studying or training or working on being perfect, and I was… hanging out at the Academy with a spear and pretending that I had some idea of what in the hell I'd do with my life after I turned eighteen.

_That's _definitely not something I'm going to say.

I bite my lip, horrified that I'm coming up completely empty, that I could probably find more happy stories in the two weeks I spent with Rue than an entire life with my little sister. For a second I'm almost positive I'm going to have to make up something entirely, but then the edge of a memory runs through my head and I latch onto it. It isn't happy, per se, but it's funny enough that I accept it.

"Birthdays have never been huge in my house," I begin, treading carefully because I don't want anyone to possibly get the idea that the 'no birthday' thing is because my parents couldn't be bothered to give a shit. "I guess they probably aren't in District Twelve either, but… generally kids in District One have big parties. The ones I know are rich enough for cake, paid entertainment… really they're cheap imitations of Capitol celebrations.

"Anyway, my parents never really did much for Breeze's or my birthdays. They figured it was better to celebrate accomplishments, so we got presents, or meals, or parties for good exam scores, or moving up a level at the Academy, things like that. And up until she was probably six or seven, Breeze figured that was normal."

Katniss has quit giving her hair-tie a nasty look and has gone back to leaning her head against my arm, her eyes shining with interest. I take that as a sign that my story isn't too dreadful yet.

"Then one of her friends, not sure who, invited her to a birthday party. The other chick was rich enough that our parents didn't see any problem with Breeze going, so she went, figured out birthday parties were the funnest things on earth, and came home demanding to know why we never got any.

"My parents explained to her that she got as many parties as her friends and that she shouldn't be jealous, because she actually _earned _hers. Breeze, because she's flawlessly obedient, sat and listened without saying a word. Then, as soon as our parents were gone, she turned to me and, perfectly seriously, said that she thought gracing the world with our presences was enough of an accomplishment to deserve _some kind of party, _and stomped off before I could argue."

"Sounds like you," Katniss says sleepily. She's smiling.

"She learned from the best," I grin. "Anyway, pretty soon I forgot about Breeze's views on birthday parties. Eventually my birthday rolled around, but I didn't give it any thought. I got up like normal, went to the Academy, and I'm pretty sure I even stayed later than I needed to because I didn't figure I'd have any reason to get home.

"I jogged home when I was finished, and as soon as I opened the door I hit this huge wall of seven-year-olds." I smile at the memory, something I hadn't thought about for years. It hits me hard when I realize that I _miss _Brianna, that I want to hug her and tell her that she's an amazing sister. It's ridiculous and obviously another sign of the impending crazy, but it still surprises me that I'm really _that _far gone.

"There was music going," I continue, pushing my rapidly deteriorating mental condition to the back of my head, "and all these little midget kids were dancing. And then, in the middle of all of it, there was this absolutely… enormous monster of a cake that had to have costed Breeze at least a month's worth of allowance. She bribed the housekeeper, too, I'm sure of it, because balloons and streamers were absolutely everywhere.

"I started freaking out because our parents weren't home and I doubted they'd be happy when they figured out what was going on, so I ran off and found Breeze, who thought dancing was unsophisticated and was so discussing _politics _with our butler. She grinned at me like she was amazing, told me happy birthday, and then asked why I looked so troubled. I think I asked her if she wanted us to get killed, and then the little fart went on to inform me that she called one of our father's business associates in a smaller part of the district and _paid _him- this was a six-year-old- to host a photo-shoot for some stupid magazine so my parents would be out of the way."

"I take it she's really smart," says Katniss.

"Too smart," I mutter back. Then: "And it's even worse because the party was boring as hell. I spent most of the time talking about sparkly balloons with some first grader who _still _has a crush on me. Afterwards, I asked Breeze why she didn't invite any of my friends if it was my party, and Little Miss Perfect looked up at me totally seriously and sweetly told me that she didn't know I _had _any friends."

Katniss laughs sleepily. Her eyes aren't even all the way open anymore. "Definitely _your _sister."

"Definitely the favorite child, too," I say, even though I've never cared about that. "Our parents found out what she'd done two weeks after they got back and Breeze was _rewarded _for showing political savvy."

That earns me another beautiful, tired laugh, and then Katniss says, "Thanks, Marvel."

"That give you something happier to think about?" I ask. "Or at least more amusing?"

"Definitely," she says. "I don't know... I think I can fall asleep now. You'll wake me up before too long if I do, won't you?"

"Sleep for as long as you want," I say. "There's nothing exciting going on here."

"No. I don't want anyone to find you-"

"No one's going to be out in this rain," I argue. Feeling Katniss start to stiffen in my arms, I quickly add, "I swear I'll stay vigilant."

Katniss shakes her head. "Wake me up in four hours, or I'm not going to go to sleep at all"

I'm not planning on listening, but I smile like the sweet, innocent angel that I am and say, "Fine. Four hours. Your wish is my command, Fire Girl."

Katniss doesn't say anything to that, only closes her eyes and drowsily snuggles deeper into my side, warm hair tickling my arm and her beautiful face so close to mine.

I don't look away from Katniss as she falls asleep. It's interesting, watching how her face relaxes and she loses her perpetually rigid posture. Without her awake to keep me from staring shamelessly, I find myself taking in every one of Katniss's pretty features. She's adorable asleep. Not scowling or worrying or thinking about anything. It makes her look younger than I've ever seen her. Innocent and gorgeous and beautiful all at the same time.

Probably my insanity talking, but I almost want to say that she's one of the most stunning girls I have ever seen.

Maybe watching Katniss sleep is a tad creepy. Maybe I'm spending too much time with Peeta and his attitude towards her is rubbing off on me. And hell, maybe my mental condition is starting to get just a little out of hand. I don't know. I hardly care.

I'm not sure how long I watch Katniss before my eyelids start getting droopy. I just know that somewhere along the line, the rain falling outside morphs into something like a lullaby, and all my injuries and terrible diet outweigh my desire to pointlessly keep watch for tributes that aren't coming. So I rest my head back against the wall of the cave and keep my eyes trained on Katniss as I slip off to sleep with an angel in my arms.

…

Something smells good when I wake up. That's the first thing that I notice. Maybe a little earthy, but there's a flowery scent there too. It's a girl smell, definitely. Funny. I'm certain I'm still in the Hunger Games, but the only girl here is Katniss Everdeen, and she wouldn't be letting me smell her hair...

A memory pops up. Of Katniss sitting down next to me, and snuggling up to me as she fell asleep, and then me staring at her and drifting off, and…

I peel my eyes open. My cheek is resting on the top of Katniss Everdeen's head, and her nose is so close to my neck that I can feel her warm breath against my skin. I blink several times. My first thought is that I should stay here and milk the moment for as long as I can, but I quickly expel that idea from my head.

First of all, I like it too much. If I stay like this for too long, I won't be able to make myself move.

And then there's the fact that I was sniffing Katniss's hair_ in her sleep_. Maybe that's cute when both people are awake, or when they're in some kind of relationship, but right now Katniss hasn't come out and said that she likes me more than platonically, and she's unconscious, and I'm close enough to marvel at how good her hair smells. Which makes me come across as either very creepy or very desperate.

Regretfully, I kiss Katniss on the crown of the head before slowly, reluctantly sitting up. I still think that we're closer than before, but our heads aren't touching anymore, so I doubt she'll really notice or care. I hope she won't. I don't want to have to push her any further away.

When I'm sure that Katniss hasn't woken up and is still entirely unaware of the fact that I was in sniffing distance of her hair, I relax back against the wall of the cave, looking away from her for just a second to see what the weather is like outside, and then…

Then I catch Peeta staring at both of us.

"What…" He starts. He stops and swallows. "What happened when I was asleep?"

The poor guy looks so dejected that I almost feel bad, which isn't a good thing. Caring about Peeta Mellark's feelings is surely another surefire sign of impending insanity. I can't even bring myself to crack a cocky joke.

"Nothing," I say honestly. "She was cold and I was awake, so we decided to share a sleeping bag. That's really it. She did it with you, too."

Peeta looks slightly less horrified, but he also makes a funny face at the mention of cuddling with Katniss. "For maybe an hour, I guess. Remember? She left to follow you before I woke up."

I blink several times in surprise. I'd forgotten about that.

"Oh," I say. "Yeah." I don't know why I keep talking, but after a second, I find myself adding, "I'm sorry about that. I really hadn't heard an animal. I stomped off to have a minor breakdown. I didn't know that Katniss was going to follow me."

Peeta doesn't look surprised. "I don't blame you. That was right after Rue died."

"Still…" I glance down at Katniss. "I'm starting to get how precious moments with Katniss are. I cut into one of yours."

"I was sleeping. I wouldn't have noticed," Peeta says, but I think he gets that I'm making an extremely roundabout apology for cutting into _all _his moments with Katniss. For whipping up a love story after knowing Katniss for three days, and messing up the one he's been struggling to write for however many years. "It's okay. Besides… You almost just died for her. I think you deserve it."

I start to guiltily think that I didn't almost die for her, that I only faced Cato because I needed to to get away, but after a moment I realize that that's not true. Katniss would've gone first if I'd have asked. So would've Peeta. If I really had wanted to, I could've forced them out as bait and ran off while Cato tore them apart.

I didn't even consider that. Never once did sacrificing either of them run through my mind.

That's not good. Not right. I showed a moment of complete selflessness. I saved Katniss's life and meant it. I got my arm broken for someone else.

I didn't even do it for sponsors.

My shrink is going to be very interested in hearing about such a thing when I get back to District One.

"Well… Thanks. I guess," I tell Peeta. "Maybe you can have Katniss tomorrow night." I think of something and make a face. "Although it's probably best to let Katniss wind up wherever she wants. I don't think she'd appreciate being shared like she's a toy."

Peeta laughs. "No. I don't think she'd appreciate that at all."

Our conversation dries up after that. Katniss is the only safe thing we can talk about. As soon as we move on to other things- our families, homes, districts, whatever- the slight competitiveness dies out of it, and our talking turns into friendly chitchat. Which would probably lead to us actually becoming friends. While I'm half worried that it's too late, that a person could _almost _consider Peeta Mellark my friend already, I also know that it'd be stupid to let myself get any closer to him than I have already.

I turn my eyes away from Peeta and look at the rain falling outside. I wonder what Cato and Clove are doing. If Cato got back to Clove, or if they're both injured and separate from each other. Did Thresh and District Five find a safe place to hide from the rain, or is this weather taking a toll on them? District Eleven is agriculture. Down south where it's warm. Maybe the colder weather will get to Thresh enough to make him an easier target.

For someone else, hopefully. I still don't want to kill him.

Still… I wonder who else could do it. I know Katniss would be reluctant to, and Peeta unable. Maybe Cato and Clove, but they're hurt and Thresh isn't… And I could actually see District Five stabbing him in the back while he's sleeping, but they can get out together. She'd have no reason to kill him.

Maybe mutts will take him out. Maybe Cato or Clove will find a way to off him. I shake my head. I don't know. It shouldn't matter. I shouldn't give a shit. He was dumb enough to help me when I didn't help him, dumb enough to declare us even even though we aren't.

No more owed, he'd said. So it's done now. Whether I agree or not, we're even, and it really hardly matters if I want to kill him or not anyway, not with how crippled I am right now. Worrying about Thresh is stupid. Something I'm doing because I'm bored and restless and don't like sitting here when I know it's not going to help.

Peeta starts rustling through a bag, and I glance at him for a second before switching my focus back to the rain outside. I start considering strategy. The Gamemakers are obviously using this rain to keep everyone in one place. They want Cato and Clove to recuperate, and they want me to get at least a little bit better. Or at least that's what I'm assuming.

I wonder how long it'll last, though. Before long, they'll have to stop the rain and let us out to hunt. The crowds will get restless if there isn't a death before long, and even though the fight with Cato was exciting, so little has been happening that they'll want more soon…

A day. Maybe two. Then something will happen. The rain will turn into a flood, or maybe mutts will come after us, or a Feast could possibly be announced, to let all the tributes know that our break is over and it's time to start killing again. I almost hope it's sooner rather than later. I'm not going to get any better sitting here, and I hate not doing anything at all.

I want action. I want to be moving. Moving closer to the hovercraft that's going to take me out of this hellhole.

Lightning flashes outside, and I say a prayer that it nailed Cato. I know better. It's probably not even real lightening. Just for show. To make the storm appear more realistic. Though, I guess the rain would be fake also, then. I wonder how they do that. Manipulate the weather. It can't be easy-

A sick choking sound snaps my attention over to Peeta. He's staring at me with huge eyes, and I gape at him, my brain a hundred percent muddled from shock, as he twitches once and drops an open cracker tin of berries to the floor. Blueberries and other, slightly darker ones roll together and mix on the ground as Peeta collapses back against the cave wall, his mouth hanging open and head lolling off to the side. Terrified blue eyes meet mine for a second before they roll back up into his head and the cannon goes off.

At first I think it's a sick joke. That maybe Peeta even confused the Gamemakers. Except I've seen dead and I know dead and Peeta Mellark is in front of me, most definitely dead.

Slowly, my heartbeat thudding in my ears and my stomach turning like I'm going to be sick, I move Katniss away from me and shimmy out of the sleeping bag, ignoring my stiff legs and throbbing arm and hurting chest to stumble over to Peeta and grab one of his shoulders with my left hand. "Peeta," I say. He's dead. I don't know why I'm saying anything. "Peeta, what in the hell is going on?"

I shake him. The cannon's already gone off, but Peeta isn't supposed to be gone now. I was supposed to have warning, time to adjust to the idea that this amazing, inhumanly good person would cease to exist. This isn't normal. It's crazy. Peeta needs to come back. Katniss won't be happy. I'm not happy. Peeta isn't… he can't be… I never actually wanted to kill him, didn't think he'd ever just… didn't expect-

I choke on my next breath and hiss, "Peeta!"

"Marvel?" Katniss's sleepy voice. I freeze over Peeta's body, my arm still on his shoulder. I turn and see her blinking blearily. "Did the cannon actually go off? I thought I was just dreaming. What-"

Katniss's eyes land on Peeta. See how… how unnaturally _dead_ he is, and then they go back to me. The only other person here. Peeta. Me. Peeta. Me. She starts shaking her head. I know what she's thinking and I can't even open my mouth to defend myself because I'm shocked by how badly it hurts when Katniss Everdeen looks at me like I'm a monster.

"Marvel," she says. She doesn't say anything else. I can see it in her eyes. She's trying to figure out what's going on. To not jump to conclusions when I'm perfectly aware that there's only one conclusion she can possibly reach. I'm actually thankful that she hasn't already got an arrow pointed at my head. "What… what happened?"

"I…" I say. I look around helplessly because I have no idea. For a second I'm speechless, but then I catch sight of the tin of berries that Peeta dropped. All the good food is in my bag, which Katniss dragged over next to us when she grabbed my sleeping bag. All Katniss had was roots and meat that needs to be thrown out… and that tin of berries. The only decent-looking food in there. My stomach plummets and I'm not sure whether I'm right or not, but wordlessly I lean back on my heels so Katniss can see the berries that were scattered on the cave floor, all around me.

"I'm not… Those wouldn't have killed him." She takes a shaky breath, and there are tears in her eyes. She methodically kicks the sleeping bag away and I just watch her as she climbs uncertainly to her feet. Her eyes are huge. She's in shock. I'm in shock. This wasn't supposed to happen. "You… had to have… it wasn't the berries. They're blueberries. I…" She chokes back a sob. "It wasn't the berries."

I look back down at Peeta and feel like I'm going to be sick. "I swear… it _wasn't _me. You _know _better. It…" I run my left hand through my hair. "Maybe he's allergic, or…" I pick up one of the berries and look at it closely, but I vaguely remember Katniss whizzing through the edible plants test in training. She would have known if these were poisonous. I wasn't exactly keeping close tabs on that station, but no one else came close to doing as well as she did.

No one except for...

"That's nightlock," Katniss says. "I know better, and… you were going to eat from that before the parachute came. You really didn't know." Her shoulders collapse with relief I'm surprised to see, and then, she goes on in a dazed voice, "Someone else…"

We look up and lock eyes. A too-proud smirk runs through my head, and I know that Katniss catches on exactly when I do because, even though her eyes are still shiny with tears, she straightens up and presses her lips into a thin line like she's ready to kick someone's ass.

I look down at Peeta, his eyes still open, and swallow back a ball of grief that I shouldn't be feeling. I have the strangest notion that the best person in Panem, the person who deserves to die the least, just accidentally offed himself.

I realize that I'm looking forward to the next time Katniss runs into District Five. I want to see that cocky little bitch get an arrow through the eye.

...

**A/N-**

**Two weeks... I know. If it makes you feel any better I literally struggled through 15,000 words of terrible, OOC, really sucky chapter before I managed to churn this out- which I'm still rather unsure about. If there are any problem areas where there's unbelievable dialogue or things don't feel right, please let me know.**

**Thanks to- **

**MaxRide05- **There was a leaky spot in the roof near Katniss's feet, which is what I meant by the 'switch places' thing. I didn't phrase it real well initially though, so I did go back and try to clear it up a little. Thanks for pointing it out. **jaclynheartz- **Thanks, **Guest- **Glad you're liking it. **TheFlipSide- **Sorry this took so long- I promise I'll be quicker next time. **Brooke13243546- **Yeah, at least Marvel came out of his stand against Cato a bit better than Peeta had in the book. Thanks for reviewing. **Hahukum Konn- **Thanks for the review. **obsessivegirl73- **Yeah, Marvel can get a bit thick. Anyway, I'm thrilled that you're liking the story, and hope you liked this chapter. **My Happiness is Only a Mask- **Thanks. **Roses in Thorns- **Thanks for the review. Sorry I didn't update quite as soon as I wanted, but I hope you keep on liking the story. **Nissy Padfoot- **Thanks for reviewing. **Huntress3419- **Glad you liked the quote. I love Annie too, but there's a scene that's been sticking in my head since I first started having Marvel go mad. Not sure if I'll ever getting around to writing it, but I can't resist setting it up just in case I get the chance to. Thanks for reviewing. **Padfoots Tamer- **Ugh, no luck on the writer's block, but I'm glad you've still been liking the chapters. Thanks for reviewing. **Someone2003- **Yeah, I rushed through last chapter and didn't really proofread, so I didn't do such a great job of bringing some things across like I'd actually planned. Katniss ending the conversation was supposed to come off more as her not knowing what to say- either reject Marvel or hurt the Boy with the Bread (who she's been talking to more than Marvel's relaying in the story, both from when he's sleeping and after he passed out)- than blowing Marvel off. And while I was partially trying to make Marvel look sheltered, most of what I was going for with the District One conversation was him being reluctant to talk about a district he doesn't feel connected to anymore, that he thinks hates him and that he's starting to question himself. I did do a little editing, so hopefully I don't entirely fail to project that to future readers. Anyway, thanks for pointing those things out. As for District One's location, I picked somewhere around Michigan or Ohio. I figured it'd be a waste to stick what I assume would be a manufacturing district somewhere where there are a lot of usable natural resources, and since most of the states in that area are known for making things I mentally stuck it there. Glad you still liked last chapter beyond the problems though. Oh. And bonus points for predicting how Peeta dies. **thepinkmartini- **If you think about it, in District One, everything is portrayed as the opposite of what Marvel is starting to realize, hence his idea that he's going insane. Thanks for the review, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story. **lucie17- **You were actually right- I was trying to have Peeta come across as knowing/accepting it was going to eventually be Marvel/Katniss, but I didn't have him say anything before I killed him off because he kept fighting for Katniss even when she was talking to Gale and not him, so I didn't see Peeta actively voicing his thoughts and saying that Marvel could just have Katniss. And half the snuggling the chapter was the result of you prompting it, so tada. I hope it sufficed. **lambtastic- **There's the fluffyish chapter you were looking for. Although Peeta dying wasn't really fluffy... anyhow, thanks for reviewing. **Sharpay Evans- **I honestly didn't either until I watched the movie. It's not exactly realistic in the normal universe, but I guess that's the beauty of writing a crack fic. **check-mate- **Glad you like the story, and I totally agree about the Marvel/Katniss thing. I almost like reading more than writing, so I really wish someone would derail all the Catoniss writers and get them writing about the superior Career. Not that I don't adore Cato too. Anyway, thanks for the review. **Olive Monster- **Thanks so much for reviewing. Hope you liked this chapter too.

**Alright. Done. Thank so much again, and please remember to keep reviewing. Your comments really do make my day. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	17. The One She Can't Survive Without

"I'm going to kill her." Katniss says it strongly the first time. Then, staring at Peeta, she repeats it in a voice that's almost a sob, "I'm going to kill her." I can see the tears shining in her eyes as she kneels down next to Peeta's body and wraps her arms around him, not making a sound as she buries her face in his chest and holds him tightly.

I stand awkwardly behind her. This isn't my thing. When Rue died, I didn't have to think about how to react because I just reacted. Now it's different. I don't know what to feel, don't even know what I'm _supposed_ to feel. A part of me knows that I should be comforting Katniss, but out of all of the social situations I've learned how to work my way through, helping an almost-crying girl sure as hell isn't one of them.

I'm tempted to crack a joke, say something to break this terrible mood, especially because Peeta's still staring up at me and Katniss is hugging a dead body and I absolutely _loathe _it, but I know that Katniss will hate me forever if I even try to make this funny. It isn't funny. Not at all. It's awful.

Peeta dying, Rue dying, everyone… I wish I never would've gotten reaped.

"Katniss," I finally say softly, when I can't stand it any longer. She doesn't look at me, and I put my good hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her to get her attention. She finally lets go of Peeta and turns around, her eyes red and still sparkling with tears that she refuses to shed. "I…" What in the hell am I supposed to say? "Uh, we have to move the body."

"Move the…" She takes a deep, shaky breath and climbs to her feet, backing away from Peeta. "I want to cover him in flowers. Like Rue."

"Katniss," I say slowly, a bad feeling working its way into my gut. Rue's death was so bloody and terrible that the flowers were probably almost excused, especially because Rue was cute, because everyone could tell how wrong her death was even if they didn't understand why. Peeta's different. He was strong and able and now shrouding him in flowers wouldn't be something done on a whim. It'd be planned, would have so much more significance. "It's raining. They'll wash away."

"But-"

I shake my head.

"No, Katniss. It's too dangerous." I look at her for a second, hope she gets the double-meaning I put behind the words, and add, "I don't want either of us accidentally falling into the river or something. Now come on. We have to get rid of him."

"You're just going to throw him outside?"

"Katniss," I say softly, using my most political voice- the one my dad taught me, the one that makes me sound smart and reasonable. "I'm going to get you out of this arena, okay? And then, after spending a few months with your family, safe and dry and happy, you'll go on a victory tour. We'll make speeches, and when we get to District Twelve, you can do something special for Peeta. Just not now. It's not the time."

Katniss opens her mouth to protest, but leans back on her heels and looks hard at Peeta for a moment before saying, "He deserves better."

"Send an arrow through District Five's head the next time you see her," I tell her as I reach down and grab Peeta's hand. "Now _help me_."

My last words are more forceful, and I think something about giving Katniss a direct order, something that she has to do instead of think about or interpret, kicks her into action, at least enough that she gets to her feet and takes Peeta's other hand.

"This isn't right," says Katniss.

"It's better than what happened to Glimmer," I say, because I do agree with Katniss but can't quite make myself say so. I'm quiet for a moment, then add, "Now come on. I don't want those damn eyes staring at me any longer."

Katniss nods mutely and we both work together to drag Peeta towards the entrance of the cave. As soon as his feet are outside, I shove him into the rain with my foot. He rolls easily in the slick mud, sliding until he's far enough away that a hovercraft will be able to come and pick him up. Katniss isn't happy. I can tell that she doesn't think it's enough, and I'm hardly surprised when she completely ignores my warning and rushes outside to kneel down next to Peeta. I can't quite see what she does through the heavy rain, but I'm almost positive that she closes his eyes and kisses him on the forehead.

When Katniss stands up, she looks towards the sky, and like she did with Rue, presses the three middle fingers of her left hand to her lips and whispers something that I can't quite hear.

I mutely mimic the motion. I was against the flowers, but I don't think that this is as bad. Most people in Panem probably don't understand what it means anyway. I know that I have no idea. I just assume that it's a respectful gesture, and honestly, after getting tossed out into the rain like a broken toy that doesn't work anymore, that's the least that Peeta deserves.

Katniss sends Peeta a sad glance and turns around, walking right past me and into the cave. I follow after her and slip back into my sleeping bag, drawing it close around me while I watch Katniss methodically pick up the berries, putting them all in the tin and then replacing it in her bag. I don't ask why she bothers keeping the nightlock. It hardly matters. We both know not to eat it.

"He wasn't supposed to die," Katniss says after a while, her voice hollow and low, barely drifting over to me above the driving rain. Her back is to me and I can't see the expression on her face, but the emptiness in her voice scares me. "I hadn't repaid him yet."

"For what?" I ask.

"For saving my life," says Katniss. She stiffens for a moment and then, ignoring the sleeping bag that Peeta died under, she crawls back to me on her hands and knees and moves to the place she'd been sleeping before. This time she doesn't hesitate before working her way under my arm and curling up close to me, but though extremely egotistical at times, I'm not stupid enough to think it's a romantic gesture in the least. She just wants someone to hold her.

I wait a moment for Katniss to continue, but she stops there, burying her face in my arm and not saying anything at all.

"Katniss… How did Peeta save your life?" I prod gently. She either ignores me or doesn't hear me. I don't push her, only keep holding her while she seems to work awfully hard at not thinking at all. We stay that way for a long time. My eyes are trained forward, looking at the place where Peeta should be, where he just was, where, if I'm not looking straight ahead, I can almost imagine he still is.

It's eerie, like the cave is suddenly too big. I almost want to suggest moving, but I know it's impractical and if spending so much time in the arena has taught me anything, it's that comfort is about the last thing anyone can afford to think about.

Eventually, between holding Katniss, awkwardly debating whether or not I should try saying something, and attempting not to notice Peeta's painfully obvious absence, I find myself starting to zone out. I don't sleep, but I stop paying attention, stop thinking for a while because I don't have anything good to think about.

Then, so softly I'm almost sure I imagined it at first, Katniss says, "My father died when I was twelve." I start and look down at her. She isn't looking at me. Her eyes are on Peeta's sleeping bag, and I know that she's seeing him too. I have a feeling that she's answering my question, despite how seemingly random the beginning of her answer is. "My mother might as well have. She couldn't function without him. The district gave us money to survive until she could get a job, but she never did."

I don't say anything. I doubt she wants me to.

"I tried to make the money last, but… it wasn't much, and we had nothing left after only a few weeks. Eventually, I had to gather some of Prim's old baby clothes and take them into town to try to sell… or even to trade them for enough food to get us through another day."

Katniss closes her eyes and takes a deep, shaking breath, then goes on, "I wound up ruining them in a mud puddle, but I knew I couldn't go home. Not when Prim's hungry eyes were so fresh in my mind. I considered stealing, but that's punishable by death in my district, and so… I started digging through garbage bins. It was the only thing I could think of."

If Katniss knows how surprising this is to me, she doesn't show it. I watch her with huge eyes, remembering when she said that she needed to find food to survive and fully realizing that I'd never imagined things had ever gotten _that _bad. I almost want to throw up with guilt for calling her a rat. Being poor isn't disgusting; it's obviously horrible. If I were sane, I know I would cringe away, wonder how I could stand being close to someone who was low enough to search through garbage for food.

Unfortunately, my sanity checked out a long time ago, and I find myself pulling Katniss closer because I'm more thankful than I can put into words that she didn't wind up starving to death.

"After a while," Katniss goes on, "I stumbled by the baker's and started looking through his bins. Peeta's mother must've seen me, because she threw the door open and began yelling about calling the Peacekeepers and being sick of animals from the Seam digging through her trash. I could see Peeta staring at me from behind her, but I hardly thought anything of it. I carefully replaced the lid and backed away before stumbling off behind the bakery and collapsing under an old apple tree. I remember thinking that it wouldn't be bad if I just stayed there and died in the rain, that at least then I wouldn't have to be so tired anymore…"

I start rubbing clumsy circles on Katniss's back, trying to comfort her even though I'm kind of unsure whether or not she actually needs it. Her voice is totally detached, and from what I can see her face is exactly the same. I just can't stand to do _nothing_, to not give her any sign that I'm still here, when everything she's saying is so… unbelievably horrible.

"Then I heard screaming from inside the bakery," Katniss goes on. "Peeta's mother… I could hear her hit him, and then the door opened and someone sloshed towards me through the mud. I didn't even look up, sure that it was her, coming to drive me away with a stick." She swallows hard, the first emotion she's shown through the whole story. "It wasn't her… it was Peeta. His mother yelled at him out the door, called him a 'stupid creature', and said that no one would buy burnt bread, that he should throw it to the pigs.

"He tore off some of the burnt parts while she was still watching, but… as soon as the door was shut, he gave both loaves to me."

"He did it on purpose, didn't he?" I ask, because it's Peeta Mellark and that's the kind of person he is. Was. The kind of person he _was_. Because he's dead now.

Katniss nods.

"I hadn't been sure, but… I asked him once, when you were asleep. He had. He…" Here she takes a shaky breath and I can feel tears creeping into her voice. "He said that he'd loved me since the first day of school. When we were five."

"That's ridiculous," I breathe, not because I'm trying to make him out to be a liar, but because I can't understand it. I try to remember Peeta's age from one of the programs or television specials, and I'm pretty sure he was just a year younger than I am. So eleven years. There are a lot of _marriages_ in District One that don't last half that long.

"That's what I thought," Katniss says. "I didn't think he was telling the truth, but then he kept going… told me exactly what I was wearing that day, and… he remembered that I sang the 'The Valley Song' in music class; he said that's when he knew that he loved me. He saw so much, and I never looked twice at him. Eleven years, and… I shoved him into a vase because I didn't believe him when he finally admitted it. Then... then I was so sure he ran off with the Careers and betrayed me after that… I was _horrible _to him. I'm even the reason he died, because I… I went off with you that night, and Foxface got those berries into my bag, and… how did I deserve him?"

I don't answer because we both know what the answer is.

Katniss _didn't _deserve Peeta. The thing is, though, it's not just her. The world didn't deserve Peeta Mellark. For someone like him to even breathe the same air as everyone else in Panem is almost fucked up because he's not like the rest of Panem, not like any other human being that I've met.

"I think…" I finally try, frustrated by how hard I'm finding it to figure out what to say because I _always _know what to say, "Maybe Peeta died because… he was too… too _good _for all this… stuff." I gesture to the arena around us and push my way forward, somehow managing to come across as more awkward than I can even remember Katniss accomplishing. "It's like… in that meadow song you sang to Rue. Like Peeta's in a happy… _meadow_, being Peeta… with angels or some other… noble individuals like himself, and they're all… dancing. Or something."

Katniss stares at me for a second and I worry that she's going to think I'm a total idiot, but then she half-laughs once and says, "It's terrible that that actually makes me feel better."

"So I successfully bullshitted my way to sounding philosophical?" I ask hopefully. Katniss elbows me and smiles beautifully, even if it still looks like she's seconds away from fighting off tears again.

"No," she says. "That was just… _bad _enough that it almost made it funny. In a good way." Katniss shakes her head. "It helps, though. Thinking of Peeta and Rue together, dancing in a meadow-"

"With noble individuals?"

"Angels," Katniss corrects, moving closer. "'Noble individuals' sounds ridiculous."

"And dead people waltzing in a meadow doesn't?" I ask, and even though it's definitely not my funniest moment ever, not by far, Katniss starts laughing way harder than the weak joke called for, closing her eyes against tears and smiling almost like she means it because right now… it's really either laughing or sobbing, and I think Katniss senses that laughing is a million times better for both of us.

After a while, Katniss quiets down and I make myself smile at her, squeezing her arm gently and saying, as encouragingly as possible, "As soon as this rain goes down, we'll go fox hunting, alright?"

"It won't make Peeta come back," Katniss says.

I think of mutilating the girl from District Four.

"No, but it makes you feel a hell of a lot better." Katniss starts to open her mouth, probably to tell me how horrible that is, but I add, "She'll have to die anyway. Might as well get some pleasure out of it."

"I hate it when you talk like that," says Katniss.

"Only because, right now, you agree with me."

Katniss doesn't say anything, and I know that she won't admit I'm right even though we both know I am. I don't press her on it though, and after a lot of staring at where Peeta's supposed to be, I can feel her relax into my arms as she drifts off to sleep.

Unfortunately, her dreams must not be as peaceful as last time. After a while Katniss starts fidgeting and squirming and I know that she's having nightmares. I almost want to wake her up, but it really isn't practical. With just the two of us left, we'll both need as much sleep as possible if we're going to be able to keep up consistent watches when the rain stops and we have to go back out into the forest.

So I let Katniss rest, my eyes not straying from her face until I notice how strangely quiet the cave has gotten. When I look outside the first time, I see that the rain has stopped. Birds chirping get my attention a while later, and even from my place in the cave I can see that the gray clouds have begun to break through into clear blue sky. I'd almost expected it to be night, but between the clouds and the dark cave, the sun was completely blacked out. It's got to be shining pretty high now, though. Probably around noon.

Then I blink as what this actually means sinks in.

Sun shining. Rain gone.

Break over. Done. The Gamemakers won't make this their only indication- something else is going to come, but the abrupt weather change makes me nervous. I'd almost been stupid enough to hope that Peeta's death would hold them over a little, but it was so unentertaining that it almost makes sense that they'd want more.

A part of me almost hopes that the Gamemakers will give Katniss and I a little time… that Panem will want to see what happens between us now, but… I don't think it'll happen. Not after Katniss's story about Peeta. It makes it sound like she would've chosen him if he was still alive… I'm almost certain she would have, just by the way she talked about him, and no one wants to see her give me a consolation prize because I'm the only option she has left.

I almost wonder if I should wake Katniss up and warn her that something is going to happen, but I decide against it. Although I do know that the rain is done for a reason, it could still be a few hours before that reason becomes apparent. In fact, after a while I even let myself doze off several times, but never for more than a handful of minutes at a time. Not when the Gamemakers could possibly find it funny to wake me up with bloodthirsty mutts.

Finally Katniss peels her eyes open, and we just sit there close to each other for a moment before she takes note of the weather and frowns.

"Do you think the other tributes are going to start hunting again?"

"Maybe," I tell her. "At least Thresh and that redheaded bitch, but I'm more scared about mutts, or maybe an earthquake... things that the Gamemakers will do. If you don't mind… it'd probably be a good idea to sort through our things, so that everything we need is in one pack if we have to go somewhere quickly. I doubt I'll be able to carry one, and Peeta's not exactly available to haul his stuff around, so…"

"I'll have to carry everything," Katniss says. "That's a good idea. We can eat while we work, just in case something happens and we don't get another chance at a meal for a while."

"I'll get the food out," I volunteer. "You're the survival expert, so I'm sure you'll know what we need better than I do."

Katniss agrees. We both stay where we're at for a bit longer, but my grumbling stomach prompts me out of my sleeping bag before too long. At first neither of us talk as we start in on our agreed upon duties, but when Katniss starts folding Peeta's sleeping bag and I find the mood becoming just a tad bit too somber, I start singing under my breath, "_Down in the valley, the valley so low…"_

Katniss's eyes fly to me, but I keep my attention on the food I'm pulling out of my bag, smiling to myself as I go on.

"_Hang your head over, hear the wind blow. Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow." _

"Marvel?"

I hold up a hand and continue like she didn't interrupt me. "_Hang your head over, hear the wind blow… Roses love sunshine, violets low dew… Angels in Heaven know I love you-" _

"Marvel," says Katniss. "What are you doing?" She's looking at me like I'm crazy, and I finally stop singing to shoot her a lazy grin.

"I'm singing the 'Valley Song'," I tell her. "I figured a good old hillbilly tune would cheer you up. Well, and if Peeta fell hopelessly in love with you after you sang the song to him, I kind of figured I'd try singing it to you. Do you love me yet?"

Katniss looks at me like I'm unbelievable, but she's also fighting a smile. "I should've been more specific," she says. "Peeta fell in love with me because apparently the birds stopped singing when I sang the song. I don't believe him, but-"

"But your voice is stunning and Peeta was probably right," I interrupt. "Can't imagine why the birds didn't quiet down for me, though. At the very least, I would've figured I was bad enough that they'd all keel over dead." I sigh. "I take it that this means it didn't work?"

"Not quite," says Katniss with a half-laugh. Her lips finally curve up into a full smile. "Where did you hear that song anyway? It doesn't seem like something I could imagine anyone in District One listening to."

"Not anyone with any social standing," I say, "but my housekeeper always sang old folk songs to Breeze and me. I never really listened to them, but part of that one just stuck. Actually, I need to thank you for cutting me off when you did. A couple more lines, and I would've had to start winging it."

"And here I thought there wouldn't be anything scarier than hearing you sing the actual lyrics," says Katniss, and I frown in mock offense.

"My voice isn't that bad," I argue, even though I know that it is. We don't take music classes at the Academy. Not unless beating dummies with sticks could be counted as learning a percussion instrument. "In fact, I bet if I went back to District One and asked around, half the people you'd meet in the street would tell you that I have an amazing singing voice."

"Huh," says Katniss. "You must be richer than I thought."

I laugh out loud.

"God, I love you," I say absentmindedly. She finishes emptying out her backpack and gestures for me to hand her mine. I pass it to her as I go on, "Seriously. That was something _I _would say. You're absolutely perfect." I shake my head. " And Katniss?"

"Yes?" she asks hesitantly.

"I may have failed miserably at singing my way into your heart, but you have to admit that I did wonders at cheering you up. That means that damaging the hearing of everyone in Panem wasn't a complete waste."

"Okay. You did cheer me up," Katniss admits. "Thank you. I owe you-"

"Say no more, dear lady. Your beautiful smile is payment enough," I cut in with a broad grin. I can't resist.

"You're ridiculous."

"First, I prefer 'marvelous'. Also, _you're _actually the ridiculous one. We talked about this whole 'owing' thing yesterday. Remember?"

Katniss's eyes widen a little, and she quickly says, "Sorry. I really don't mean…"

"I know," I say, waving off the apology. "Don't worry about it." Katniss empties the last of the supplies from my bag and moves to start organizing the pile in front of her. "And you can wait to do that later. I've got all the food out, so it's probably smarter to eat now and get all the supplies together when we're done."

"That sounds like a good idea," says Katniss. She moves around her little mound of junk and takes a seat next to me, reaching forward and unwrapping the half-finished steak once she sits down. I wrinkle my nose at the idea of eating cold meat, and Katniss gives me a strange look. "I'm hungry… and you're…"

"Used to having fresh-cooked meals all the time." Katniss takes a hunting knife and cuts off a piece of the meat, handing it to me with a smile. I can't tell if she thinks it's funnier that I have to eat disgusting cold steak or that she has to cut it into pieces for me because of my stupid arm. I stick my tongue out at her because she should be more sympathetic either way.

"Marvel," Katniss says.

I sigh and tentatively put the chunk of meat in my mouth, then promptly wind up almost choking on the taste and texture and… the other disgusting things about eating day old meat. I cough and grab a canteen, rinsing the thing down with water. "That's disgusting."

"It's food," says Katniss, daring me to argue.

I sigh and admit, "True. I guess that's actually the only advantage you outer district tributes have. You know how to survive off of eating shit."

"It doesn't matter most years," Katniss reminds me. She takes an enormous bite of the steak and downs it like it's the best thing she's ever eaten. I have to remind myself that this girl was looking through trash bins for food at one point in her life. An actual steak, even cold, is probably a luxury to her. "The Careers usually have enough food to easily last them to the end of the Games."

"That's what I was expecting when I was Reaped," I tell Katniss. "I had no idea I'd be hiding out in a cave and eating cold steak with a girl from District Twelve."

"Disappointed?" asks Katniss.

"You mean when I could be listening to Cato and Clove share murder stories?" I laugh. "Of _course." _

"Seriously," says Katniss.

"Seriously, you would've gotten those supplies without me, and I would've been stuck with nothing," I remind her. "Believe me, I'm glad I'm here." She holds up another piece of meat, and this time I bite it out of her hand, ignoring the dirty look she gives me. I force it down with a big smile on my face, and go on, "Besides, spending time with you is worth a million times more than all the delicious food the Capitol has to offer."

"Is everyone from District One like you?" Katniss asks.

"Depends on what you mean," I say cautiously.

"So... sweet. With all the pick-up lines and pretty words. Are you special, or am I just seeing normal District One stuff?"

"Oh, District One is all about pick-up lines and pretty words," I tell Katniss honestly. "_However_, most guys from my district don't mean a word of what they say." I grin. "When I talk about you, everything that comes out of my mouth is a hundred percent true."

I wait for the guilt to come as soon as the words are out of my mouth, but it never does. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Does is mean the insanity is wearing off, or has my crazy head convinced me that I shouldn't be guilty because... because it isn't entirely a lie...?

As soon as I even consider the notion, I push it out of my head. What a terrible, silly, totally impossible thing to even think about.

"You know," Katniss says slowly, "You were right." I raise a brow. "You are kind of marvelous."

Marvelous? I tilt my head at her, trying to figure out any hidden agendas she might have in saying that.

"Do you actually mean that," I finally ask, "or are just making fun of my amazing puns?"

"Both, probably," says Katniss, her lips curved up into a smile.

I have no idea what to make of that, but I don't bother thinking on it much more. Actually, our conversation winds up drifting in a more serious direction anyway. Katniss speculates on what should go into our pack, which one we should take, and how many weapons she thinks we'll need, and I add in my ever-so-useful commentary around mouthfuls of stale bread and cold steak.

When we're done with the meal, Katniss sets to work narrowing down the pile of supplies, leaving behind extra knives and food that's no longer edible so that she doesn't have to carry anything more than necessary. "We're almost out of food," she says as she packs up the remainder of our meal, "but I'll probably get a chance to hunt soon, so that shouldn't be a problem." Her eyes find my face and she adds, "As long as you're willing to eat fresh game."

"I ate cold steak," I tell her, rolling my eyes. "I doubt roasted... whatever in the hell you're planning to catch could possibly be any worse."

Katniss shakes her head, her eyes sparking with amusement as something seems to occur to her. "If we win," she says slowly, "I'm taking you to meet Greasy Sae."

"Is that someone's _name_?" I ask. I've heard people make fun of District One names before, but parents from my district usually figure that if they give their kid the name of something precious and beautiful, they'll grow up to fit the name. Anyone who names their kid 'Greasy Sae' sure as hell doesn't have that excuse.

"It's just a nickname," says Katniss. She pauses. "I think. Anyway, she makes soup back home. I want you to try some."

"What's in it? Beef?"

"That's what she calls it," Katniss says. She finishes packing up the bag and glances at me. "What's actually in it varies, but I'll probably get in trouble if I list any of the real ingredients. I don't want to scare off her customers."

"Oh god," I mutter. "Scary enough to chase off people from District Twelve? That sounds terrible."

"It's not bad if you don't think about what you're eating," says Katniss. She sets the bag next to the entrance of the cave and takes a seat next to me. It isn't that cold anymore, especially not since the rain quit, but our arms are still touching. I look at her funny, but she doesn't even seem to notice. "Now what should we do? Wait?"

I open my mouth, but the sound of trumpets cuts me off. My first reaction is confusion because it isn't anywhere near sundown yet, but then I realize what's going on. It's the signal I've been waiting for; the Capitol is bored and the Gamemakers are prodding us into action. Claudius Templesmith confirms my guess a second later when he announces that there's going to be a feast.

Katniss starts shaking her head, but I'm not going to outright refuse to go, even if we don't need food. A feast could be a great opportunity to kill off a few more tributes. If she could hide somewhere with that bow, we could at least take out one or two, and... "Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation." I think of Cato and Clove, who are too beat up to risk their lives for a little food. "But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately."

I jerk my head up, and all of Katniss's reluctance disappears as her eyes fly to me.

"Each of you will find something in a backpack, marked with your district number or numbers, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."

"We have to go steal District Two's bag," I say right away.

Katniss shakes her head. "_You _aren't going anywhere, not when you can't defend yourself. They have to have something for your arm, though. That's all I can think of that we'd need. Just let me go, and-" _  
_

"I'm going," I insist. Partially because I hate the idea of being left out of the action, and partially because Katniss needs someone to watch her back. I don't... can't imagine what I'd do if she died trying to get something for _my _arm. I refuse to allow that to happen. "I'm fine. I can use a knife with my left hand, and I might need to provide a distraction or something. Please, just let me-"

"No," says Katniss stubbornly. "You're defenseless. I won't let you die because Foxface accidentally stumbles into you and stabs you with a knife."

"If you go by yourself, you don't have any chance of stealing District Two's things."

"You aren't going, and I don't care about District Two's pack. It'll just give them an excuse to chase me. I'll go alone, I'll get my pack, and I'll come back here without a scratch. Okay?"

"Katniss, you're being unreasonable. I may be hurt, but I can still protect you... and even if I die, you'd still have a shot at winning. I don't see why you're so worried about _me _when you could just go back to District Twelve and have Gale-"

Katniss reaches forward and pinches my lips shut. I close my mouth, and after making sure that I really stopped talking, she leans back and says, "I don't want you to die for me, okay? I can hardly stand the thought of losing you... don't know if I can _survive _without you, and you're making it sound like I could move on without a second thought."

"You dealt with Peeta's death well enough."

Katniss shakes her head.

"You're different. I can't compare you two because you aren't alike at all, but... you make me _happy_. More than Peeta did and maybe even more than _Gale _does. I don't know what that means, but you're always so optimistic, and at first I thought it was because you didn't understand what real life was actually like, but... now I know better. It's who you are, and..." She swallows. "I don't think you understand how much I _need_ someone like that. I know I won't be the same if I get out of this arena, and I need someone like you there to remind me that nothing is as bad as it seems."

Holy shit.

"I..." I start. I clear my throat, trying to hide my surprise. "Uh... that's..."

I'm speechless. Katniss did say she genuinely liked me, but this is different. This is... she just said she _needs _me, and I'm so stupid-happy about it that I'm actually worried.

Katniss needs me. I make her happier than Peeta or Gale.

She can't stand the thought of losing me.

I definitely need a shrink extremely quickly, because I shouldn't be half as thrilled about any of this as I am.

"So you understand, right? That you can't go to the Feast, because... I need to know that you're going to be here when I come back?"

I blink. Right. The feast.

"Er, yeah," I say. Yeah, right. "I didn't realize it mattered so much, but I suppose I understand where you're coming from, not wanting me to go." I reach out and take her hand, smiling to myself when she doesn't pull away. "I guess... I won't keep insisting on going with you if you really don't want me to."

"You're not lying?" asks Katniss. "Because you walk like an elephant. I'll know if you try following me."

"I'm being perfectly honest," I assure her. "I'd probably be more of a hindrance than a help anyway. I don't want you getting hurt because you're worried about protecting me."

"Oh," says Katniss, brow furrowed. She wasn't expecting me to give up that easily, but there's nothing about my words or expression that would give her any indication at all that I'm telling anything but the truth. I'm a perfect liar, and for all that she knows about me, that's one thing she hasn't quite figured out. "Okay... Thank you. For trusting me."

"I've got no reason not to," I say a little too sweetly. Katniss doesn't notice. "Now you should get some rest. You'll have to leave in the middle of the night if you're going to get to the Cornucopia before dawn." _And I need you leaving early, so you can get a good enough lead not to notice me when I come after you._

"Alright..." says Katniss. She shakes her head like she's still waiting for me to tell her that I'm joking and that there's no way I'd ever let her go by herself.

As if I would ever say such a thing.

I would think it, sure. But say it? That would totally defeat the purpose of lying to her in the first place.


	18. Logical Insanity

Katniss goes into super-survival mode the rest of the afternoon. Berries and roots and other semi-edible junk are all brought into the cave, in addition to a couple of dead birds that she skins, roasts and stores faster than I can say 'redneck'.

I don't comment as I watch her, and although I am tempted to ask why she's stockpiling a week's worth of food when I won't need any of it if she survives, I keep the question to myself. I'm not stupid enough not to realize that Katniss is hoarding food in case she doesn't come back, but for some reason I don't want her to actually admit it. Like hearing her say that she _might_ die will make the possibility all the more real.

It almost seems like no time has passed at all before the sun starts to creep down. Now visibly nervous, Katniss goes about getting me all nice and tucked into my sleeping bag, then gets her bow and arrow into a neat little pile by the door, almost like she thinks she'll forget them otherwise. She checks that she has a knife in her belt six separate times.

Me, being the concerned guy I am, watch her carefully, like I'm actually _worried _about how obviously anxious she's getting.

Okay, not 'like' I'm worried. I _am _worried.

But only because I've lost my mind.

"Do you have any special strategy I should use?" Katniss asks as she finishes getting ready. "Anything you learned back in District One that could help me?"

"I gave you my strategy already. Steal District Two's pack and mow down anyone who tries killing you."

"Something that'll help me stay alive," Katniss clarifies. "Not that'll get me killed."

"It won't get you-" I start, but I cut myself off because I know that she isn't going to crack on this. With a sigh, I say, "Fine. Then _don't _get District Two's bag, keep your bow up, and run like hell."

Katniss rolls her eyes.

"I could have figured that out. I mean... do you have any tricks that'll help me?"

"I don't think so," I say. Feasts are _supposed _to turn up casualties. The only way to ensure surviving one is to not go at all. "I guess… if you aren't willing to sabotage the other tributes, I think I heard that you're supposed to run _the second _the feast starts. If you get our bag first, no one else will be able to chase you without giving up their own. That's all I can think of." I frown. The Academy never taught us any _passive _strategy.

"Run right away. That's easy enough." Katniss takes a deep breath and sits down next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, Katniss. You're one of the strongest tributes left. You should be fine."

"I hope so," says Katniss. She glances outside and pulls her jacket more closely around her. "I have a couple hours before I have to go, but you can fall asleep if you want. I'll be back by the time you wake up." A moment passes, and then she adds, "I promise."

"I'm holding you to that," I say, as if I'm not planning on following her and fighting off all the remaining tributes simultaneously if it means getting her back here safe (because I'm obviously crazier than I thought). I yawn a little over-dramatically. "Now goodnight, Katniss."

"Good night, Marvel."

After that, I close my eyes and try to relax. I don't actually sleep- I don't want to miss Katniss leaving- but I pretend to. Katniss will leave more quickly if she doesn't think I'm awake. Besides, it'll erase any doubts she still might have about me wanting to follow after her.

It doesn't feel like much time has passed before Katniss must decide that she needs to get going. I listen carefully while she gets to her feet. There's some rustling as she slips her coat on and grabs her things, and then I feel her presence right beside me again, close enough that her warm breath is tickling my face. I don't let myself react, keeping my breathing even and not changing my posture even as I wonder what in the hell she's doing.

"Good-bye, Marvel," Katniss says softly, the words echoing in the silent cave. There's a short pause, and then I feel her lips brush against mine, light as butterfly wings, before they're gone and Katniss's footsteps are echoing hastily out of the cave. I hold my breath as I hear her replace the plants she'd used to camouflage the entrance, and then, as soon as everything goes quiet, I jolt up in place with huge eyes and look at where Katniss just was, my fingers going to my lips as I mutter, "Holy shit."

She just kissed me. Willingly. Katniss Everdeen willingly kissed me.

I smile like a total idiot. So maybe that was a 'just in case I die' kind of thing. In fact, it probably was. I hardly care. It doesn't even matter that the only people from District One who would even consider that an actual kiss are all under the age of ten. I know Katniss Everdeen and I know what she's like and I know that, even if it was on a whim and when I was asleep and the kind of kiss that someone would give a dying grandmother, it meant _something_.

Shaking my head, I remind myself that I have things to do and that the only reason I care so much is because I'm batshit crazy. It still takes me a little bit longer than it should to stop thinking about Katniss Everdeen, but once I've got my head on as straight as it's going to get without professional help, I shimmy out of my sleeping bag and start sorting through the supplies that Katniss left with me.

Glimmer's sword is the first thing I grab. It's the only weapon other than a knife that I'll have any chance of really using with my left hand. Well, and the thing saved my ass against Cato. I don't know if Rue put in a good word for me with dead-Glimmer or what, but so far the sword has proved beast enough that there's no way I'm leaving it behind.

After that I hesitate. I have a single spear left, and there's no way I'll be able to throw it. I shouldn't take it, but… I find myself grabbing it anyway. It doesn't feel right not to.

I shove a couple knives into my belt once I've got my spear, and then start searching for my coat. Katniss had shoved it off in one of our extra bags, so it takes me a while to find it. Even once I do manage to locate it, I pause for a second before I put it on. There's a huge gash across the front where Cato cut me, blood staining the edges crimson red. I should've grabbed Peeta's before we kicked him out of the cave, but I wasn't thinking clearly. It's still too chilly to go out in just my cut up t-shirt, but the blood on the jacket is painfully obvious, practically screaming that I'm an easy target.

Then again, everyone knows that I'm hurt. Cato would've told Clove if they managed to get back together, and Thresh saw me and no doubt imparted the information to his little red-headed friend. Staying warm is more important than looking strong, especially when everyone already knows that I'm not.

Carefully, I unzip the coat and slowly try putting the thing on. It takes longer than it should, with a good amount of extra swearing as I ease it over my bad arm, but finally I get into it. As an added precaution, in case I get lost or something, I stuff some of the berries and roots that Katniss gathered into my pockets, and then I grab my spear and head out.

I don't know how fast Katniss is moving, but I do know that I have to move a lot slower. That's not too difficult for me. Instead of following the river like I assume Katniss did, I go straight into the forest, going along with the logic that there's less chance she'll catch me if I take my own way instead of trying to follow after her.

The only problem with said logic is that I have no sense of direction. At all.

I'm fine at first. I'm making slow progress since I'm not in all-star condition, and Katniss had estimated that it was a two mile walk from the clearing I passed out in to our cave, so I figure that walking for an hour or so should put me somewhere I recognize.

Turns out, that is a shit plan.

As soon as I estimate that an hour's gone by, I stop and look around, then realize that I have absolutely no idea where in the hell I'm at. Everything is dark and scary and really, really creepy. Not to mention not recognizable at all. I turn in a slow circle, but other than being just smart enough to remember which way I came from, I'm entirely clueless.

"I could really use a _map right now," _I annunciate clearly. I wait several seconds, but nothing comes. I'm not even sure if maps are legal sponsor-gifts. I know that it's not explicitly against the rules, but I can't remember ever seeing a mentor send a tribute a _map._

Probably because most tributes aren't stupid enough to get themselves lost in the first place.

Blindly, I start walking again, keeping my eyes peeled for a landmark or anything that's even the least bit distinctive. Unfortunately, it's dark enough that anything I might've seen otherwise is entirely hidden by shadows.

I make myself keep going for what I assume is another hour, and just as I'm about to give up and start heading off in a random direction, I notice that the trees all around me are starting to thin out. I don't remember any areas in the forest like this. I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad sign, but since at least it's something refreshingly different from what I've been seeing, I keep pushing my way forward.

I only go a few more yards before the trees disappear completely. I mean, one second I'm in a thin forest, and the next there's just this huge, barren clearing stretched out in front of me. And almost everything in it is _burnt_. Even after the rain, there's a funny ashy smell, and it's just growing light enough that if I look real close I can almost see that the grass is more black than green. I look around, my lips slowly curving up into a smile. This is where Cato burnt us out of our shelter, and I'm almost positive that the Cornucopia isn't more than a mile away from here.

Hallelujah.

Relieved, I make a ring around the clearing, sticking close to the tree line. The forest starts looking somewhat familiar by the time that I'm halfway around the enormous space. Once I'm finally convinced that I have a good idea of where I'm at, I break off into the forest again. It isn't long before I walk out of the dense trees and find myself in front of the pond that the Careers ran into to escape the first fire. I'm just ready to let out a sigh of relief when, in the absence of the trees, I notice something.

It's almost light out. When I listen extra carefully, I can even hear birds starting to sing. I must have been lost for longer than I thought, or just not walking fast enough or something, because right now it looks a hell of a lot like dawn.

Since I have no way of knowing exactly _when_the feast will start- it could have started already for all I know- I start moving more quickly. It's one of the stupidest things I could possibly do since Katniss wasn't lying when she said I move like an elephant, and all of the remaining tributes are probably right around this area, but being _late _for the feast and having Katniss die because of it is definitely worse than not making it to the feast at all.

As I walk, I start moving my spear around in my left hand, messing with my fingers and trying to get my grip right. I probably won't be able to get anything behind it if I do have to throw off-handed, but it's something to focus on, something to keep me from worrying so terribly much.

Then the first cannon goes off.

In the space of less than a second, the idea of not-worrying becomes a ridiculous impossibility.

I take off as fast as I can, not caring that I'm thrashing through the trees, or that branches and vines are whacking me in the face. I know that I'm too late if that was Katniss's cannon, but the Feast has already started either way and if she isn't dead yet, it might not be very long at all before she is.

As I run, I count every second to myself. Feasts hardly ever last more than five minutes. I get to sixty seconds way too quickly. A hundred and twenty. My heart is thudding in my ears and, like when I was trying to save Rue, my steps suddenly feel much too slow. I can recognize where I'm at, know that I'm close, but every time that I think I'll burst out of the trees and into the main clearing, I only find myself running through more forest.

_"MARVEL!"_

I freeze for only a second before I push myself faster than before. Katniss is still alive. That's what I remind myself. It doesn't matter that my name is practically a death-wish for dying girls, that screaming for _my _help did shit for Rue or Glimmer. That cannon wasn't Katniss's, and her voice was so close, and hell, maybe third time's the charm-

_"MARVEL!"_

I duck under a low branch and dodge one more tree trunk, and then the trees are gone. I hastily high-step through a cluster of plants and start sprinting straight forward, relief washing over me as I tear into the clearing. My eyes immediately settle on two figures that are barely visible behind the feast table. Small, dark-haired girls with braids. One's on top of the other and I'm too far away to tell them apart by sight, but common sense would obviously say that Katniss wouldn't be asking for my help if she were the one on top.

Apparently I was flattering myself when I expected Clove to be severely injured.

"Liar," I can here Clove say. "He's probably ditched you. That's what it is, isn't it? He decided that he was taking his little _charade _too far. He never loved you, you know."

My hands start shaking and I move too fast, tripping over something heavy. Something soft breaks most of my fall, my left arm thankfully taking the rest of the impact. I turn around quickly, already scrambling to my feet, before I actually see what I landed on.

District Five's amber eyes look straight up at me. There's an arrow sticking sideways out of her neck, and blood is all over her face, pooling in her mouth. Glancing back, I can see that I tripped over the backpack that she'd been carrying. I stare for a second too long, noticing for the first time the sticky blood that's coating the left arm of my jacket.

I back away hastily, wiping blood from my hands, and force myself to turn around, to start running again. Clove's still talking. Playing with her food. Too focused to notice me. "He told every single one of us Careers that he was just using you to get sponsors. If you could have seen what he did with _Glimmer _before she died-"

I tear around the Cornucopia with my spear up and just as I snarl, "Do you really want to finish that sentence, _bitch?", _I notice Thresh barreling towards us from the other side of the clearing. My attention had been too entirely on Clove and Katniss for me to notice him before, but now that he's ten feet away, he's kind of hard to miss.

"What're you going to do to me, Marvel?" Clove asks sweetly. "Your arm is _crushed_-"

Her sentence cuts off in a shriek when Thresh yanks Clove off of Katniss by the back of her jacket and flings her to the ground. I keep my eyes glued to Thresh with an almost morbid fascination as he raises an enormous rock above his head. Clove has just enough time to shriek, "CATO!", and then he brings the rock down hard against her temple.

It leaves a dent in her skull.

"Clove!" Cato yells back, almost right away, but it's too late. Clove is still breathing, still alive, but even if I misjudged how badly I've hurt Cato, I know that there's nothing he can do to save her now, no matter how quickly he gets here.

He doesn't know that, though. He'll still come. Come to try to save her. Maybe even to avenge her death.

Thresh stares at Clove a moment, like he actually doubts she's down, then backs away from her and looks at Katniss. I find myself following his gaze, letting myself really study her for the first time. She's still sitting on the ground, and there's blood dripping from an ugly gash that cuts across her forehead. I have to force myself to tear my eyes away from her. It looks like she could die any second.

Thresh looks towards me the moment I turn my gaze back towards him and we lock eyes. He has his rock and I can see his enormous knife glistening on his hip, but I'm holding a spear that he may or may not think I can use.

I raise the spear semi-threateningly, trying to make it look like I'm actually left-handed and like I think the gesture means something.

"If you could throw it, you would have already," Thresh says bluntly. "Your arm don't work."

"I _can _throw it," I lie. "I just don't want to." I stand a little straighter, hoping that it'll make me look less injured. "You saved my life because you 'owed' me, but you didn't really owe me anything. So now it's me who has the debt, and it'll all be repaid if you just leave before I send this through your skull. Then we'll be even."

"District Twelve killed my partner," Thresh says, jerking his head towards District Five. "We _are _even."

"Katniss had every right to take out that redhead bitch," I hiss. "She killed Peeta." I glance towards the trees. "Now just quit arguing and get the hell out of here. Cato's coming."

"You can't hurt me, District One."

"Are you confident enough in that belief to try killing me?"

We both watch each other, not breathing, not moving.

"Clove!" Cato's voice is pained enough that there's no way he's not close enough to see her lying on the ground.

Finally, Thresh grits his teeth and shakes his head. "You lie pretty, District One. Go." He looks towards Katniss, who's struggling to her feet, and says, "Run."

I exhale in relief and reach out quickly, grabbing one of the straps of our backpack in my left hand, grasping the material around my spear shaft before I take off. Katniss is already stumbling away, and I slow myself down so that I'm running right beside her, running away from Thresh and Clove and Cato's screaming voice.

Just as we reach the edge of the woods, I glance back over my shoulder for a second, not even stopping completely. Only looking for long enough to catch a glimpse of Thresh disappearing into the wheat field he ran off into earlier, to see Cato kneeling beside Clove and begging her to stay with him.

Something about that scene, about the desperation in Cato's voice and the expression on his face, has my step faltering for just a second before I make myself keep running.

It takes me a while to figure out what bothered me about it.

Cato sounded _hurt._ No, not hurt. Brutal, bloody Cato sounded _devastated _over Clove's death.

For the first time, those inside jokes and crazy stories and strange comments that Cato and Clove always made with each other take on an entirely new meaning. Clove wasn't just a sadistic weapon that Cato liked keeping around. I have no idea if they were like siblings, or good friends, or if maybe Cato never saw Glimmer because he had Clove all along, but seeing him so messed up over her death makes me realize that she actually meant something to him.

For some reason I'd thought Rue was special, that her death hit me hard because she, specifically, didn't deserve to die... but was that how Cato saw Clove? Was she his Rue? I wonder about all the other tributes. If they had friends and family who would've knelt next to them and begged them to stay alive, or cried and wreathed them in flowers if they would've been able to do so.

It's a stupid, mad, crazy thought, but... maybe it wasn't _just _Rue who doesn't deserve to die.

I exhale sharply. Since when has insanity sounded so damn _logical?_

"Marvel?" Katniss asks. I shake away the millionth troubling notion that's bothered me since these Games started and look over at her. She's bleeding worse. I want to tell her to stop and rest, but we have to keep going, have to get back to the cave as soon as possible. No matter how human Clove's death made Cato look, I know better than anyone else how pissed off watching someone important die can make a person. Maybe his injury will keep him from chasing us. Maybe he went after Thresh.

Maybe he's not ten yards behind us.

After seeing Clove almost fully recovered when I was expecting her to be half-dead, I'm not going to discount the impossible. I don't know how many sponsors District Two is getting. Really, I was so out of it during out fight that I might not have stabbed him nearly as deeply as I thought.

I'm not stopping. Not until I _know_ Katniss is safe.

"Yeah?" I ask Katniss, the word coming out in more of a gasp than a question; I've ran more this morning than I think I have in my entire life, and no amount of adrenaline can keep me from feeling exhausted as shit.

"You lied to me."

"I wasn't about to let you risk your life for me," I say plainly. It's the truth. I won't even deny it anymore. I'm being perfectly honest. Crazy, but honest. I take a wheezing breath "Not while I was jacking around in a cave two miles away."

"We both could've died," Katniss says. She hesitates, then adds, "But... thank you. Anyway."

"Anything for you, Fire Girl."

We share a smile and then fall into silence as we keep running forward. My hand's going numb around my spear and the backpack handle, gripping both so tightly that my knuckles are white, but I don't let go, don't even slow down.

Funnily enough, the trip back to the cave feels a lot shorter than my little excursion out to the Cornucopia. Katniss has us heading in a straight line, and it doesn't feel like much time passes at all before we break through the trees and end up right in front of the river. Katniss is doing just bad enough that she has to hold on to the back of my jacket to get through the water without slipping, and I don't let her go after that. I don't want her falling or fainting without me knowing. Thankfully, she's still conscious when I catch sight of the cave entrance.

"Thank god," I say a little too loudly. I carelessly kick away the plants that were hiding the entrance and step aside, letting Katniss stumble in ahead of me. I follow behind, carefully setting my backpack on the floor with my spear before hastily reassembling Katniss's much neater camouflage job. Then, taking a deep, relieved breath, I walk a little farther into the cave and sink exhaustedly to the floor.

Katniss is injured and bloody, but she'll survive. I'm a backpack away from being able to throw again.

District Five and Clove are both dead.

Despite being absolutely exhausted, I find my lips stretching into a wide, bright smile.

"I might actually do it," I say. I reach out and take Katniss's hand, and her tired eyes meet mine. "I might get you home."

"Just two more," says Katniss, eyelids fluttering, blood still dripping from the gash.

"Two more. Now just let me get your head fixed up and we'll be all set," I say, so gently and uncharacteristically that, for a second, I wonder if maybe I'm not crazy. That I wonder if maybe, somewhere during these Games, the old Marvel who'd never consider talking gently to anyone, let alone a tribute from District Twelve, died along with Glimmer and Rue and Peeta.

That maybe that's why I've been having such messed-up thoughts.

"Not yet," Katniss mutters. "I can't stay awake much longer anyway. Right now, just stay with me. Please."

I sigh, and even though I know I do need to stop her head wound from bleeding- not to mention that I have to fix my own injuries- I find myself scooting over next to Katniss and taking both her hands in my good one. "Okay. I'll stay with you, Katniss." I swallow, and my next words come out of my mouth against my will. "I'll always stay with you."

**A/N- **

**Sorry this is a little shorter and a little later than usual. I got an idea into my head for a scene about four chapters forward and I spent half the week writing that out so I didn't forget it.**

** Anyway, I have to leave for a doctor's appointment in like five minutes and I don't have time to say anything else or do review replies because I want to get this up before I go. If anyone had a question or something they wanted me to comment on in their last review, please just PM me or tell me in your review of this chapter and I promise I'll shoot you a PM ASAP. I really do appreciate everyone's comments, and I hope you keep telling me what you think. I really appreciate all the help and always listen to criticism. **

**I do apologize for the lack of review replies, but I promise I'll do them next chapter. **

**Until then,**

**~bballgirl32~ **


	19. Calm Before the Storm

Fixing Katniss up is a piece of cake. When I crack open the backpack that we got at the Feast, the first thing I pull out is a jar of crappy-smelling cream that I'm almost positive was intended to be for my chest.

However, since, over the past few days, I've apparently turned into a selfless prince-charming type, my first thought is that I can also use it for Katniss's forehead. Therefore, I forgo immediately helping _myself_ in favor of taking care of Katniss first.

Without really even thinking about it, I drag my dead-tired body over to Katniss and wipe a bit of blood off her forehead before I dip my fingers into the jar and smear as little of the cream as I can over her cut. The effect is magical. The gash in her skin knits up almost instantly, leaving a smooth pink line in place of what had been a nasty-looking injury.

I'm dying to do the same thing to my chest. The only problem is that I can't. I'd have to get my coat off first, and if getting into the thing was bad, I'm pretty sure that it'll be even harder to wrestle my way out of it. It's probably best to leave my chest alone and fix up my arm first.

With that in mind, I set aside the little jar of cream for later and pull the second grand gift from above out of the backpack.

It happens to be a syringe that's roughly the length and thickness of my longest finger.

Unfortunately, I recognize it immediately. Back in District One, the Academy kept a small supply of the exact same kind of needles, coupled with the same kind of medicine that I'm sure is loaded up into said needle, for use in extremely specific circumstances. Getting a shot of the stuff is expensive as hell, so I haven't actually seen anyone get one before, but I _have _seen some less-wealthy kids beg for the stuff and get shot down.

From what I can remember of the medical explanation we got at the Academy, it's an enzyme or a catalyst or some scientific thing like that that clusters around the bone and speeds up cell growth. Like I said, I've never seen the stuff in action, but I have heard rumors. Like that the needle is supposed to get shot up all the way _into _the bone, and that it hurts more than breaking the stupid thing does in the first place.

Me and painful aren't on very friendly terms with each other, and I know that if I think about it too much I'll chicken out, so, instead of dwelling on huge needles and terrible shots, I get to work, rolling back my coat sleeve with a shaking hand, and then peeling off the splint when I get the sleeve out of the way.

Then I grab the syringe out of its small box and gingerly take it in my left and.

As soon as I think I'm ready, I line the needle up, take a deep breath, and push down hard.

There was this time, a few years ago I think, that I was jogging home from the Academy and saw a bunch of Peacekeepers all clustered around Ace Edenthaw's house. I'd known him pretty well because he was too cocky to put much effort into anything he did and I didn't like bothering all that much, so we spent a lot of time together, working hard to get out of hard work.

Then he volunteered for the Games and wound up dying by the end of the third day. I hadn't thought of him much after that. At least not until I walked by his house and saw his father screaming his head off at all these Peacekeepers, daring them to kill him, saying that they poisoned his son's mind and that training kids to kill was wrong and that he was going to do whatever he could to stop it.

I'd rolled my eyes because I obviously thought he was crazy- ironic, huh?- but didn't move or say anything. After a bit more ranting, one of the Peacekeepers must've snapped. Except instead of shooting the guy, he threw something. I'm not sure what it was, but one second this guy is on his porch steps yelling, and the next, his entire house is going up in flames. I watched, since I'd kind of developed a taste for that kind of thing, as he tried to escape and wound up falling into the fire, skin blackening and his face twisted up all ugly with pain.

What I'm getting at is that I _swear _that's what my arm feels like. Even though I yank the needle out as soon as it's all the way pushed down, whatever drugs were in that syringe are potent enough that I half think I can smell the burning flesh, that I can see smoke sizzling up off my arm.

And you know what the funny part is?

Between getting burnt in the first fire and watching Rue and Peeta die and having Cato cut me open and stomp on my arm, and then dealing with that pain for the last few days…

All that I can think is that it could be worse.

That's it. My arm feels like it's _on fire,_ and all that I can think is that really, it's nothing compared to the way I felt watching Rue die. And maybe it hurts worse than having Cato step on it did, but it isn't half as terrifying as lying on the ground with a killing-machine standing over me and grasping for straws, for anything at _all _that would keep me alive when I was as good as dead.

So, instead of cussing my head off or screaming or even crying from what is probably the worst _physical _pain I've ever felt, I squeeze my eyes shut and ball my left hand into a fist and grit my teeth. I can feel some other effect of the drugs kicking in, and it's making my head loopy- or more loopy than usual- and my vision starts going blurry until all that I can really focus on is the sickening burning pain in my arm.

It isn't long before even that fades, and I find myself slipping off to sleep.

…

A cool hand on my forehead pulls me towards consciousness. I squeeze my eyes shut a little tighter because I feel cruddy. Kind of nauseous, and I ache everywhere. Maybe I'm sick. I bet that's it. My maid is the person standing over me, or maybe even Breeze. Seeing if I have a fever.

I should open my eyes and chase off whoever it is. My maid always looks at me like I scare her, and it makes me uncomfortable, and Breeze shouldn't be here because we don't do things for each other anymore.

Then someone says, "Marvel? Are you awake?", and I realize where I'm at and who I'm with and I _relax _as I peel my eyes open. The illusion of being home shatters all around me and I smile wide because Katniss Everdeen is sitting up in front of me and looking at me with concerned eyes and not a single drop of blood on her face.

"You're better," I say, my tongue feeling dry and heavy.

"I'm better?" Katniss asks. She snorts. "I was going to be fine, but you… I woke up and found you with blood all over your hands and pooling around your chest. I was worried that you were going to _die." _

"Huh?" I ask.

"That cut Cato gave you split open again," says Katniss. "I used the medicine you got to fix it, but there was still a lot of blood. How do you feel now?"

I look down, noticing for the first time that my chest really doesn't hurt that much at all. My shirt is still off from when Katniss must have healed the cut, and I can't completely hide my surprise when I realize that a jagged scar and a little tightness when I move are all that's left of what had been a horrifically painful wound.

Remembering my other horrifically painful wound, I lift up my arm to look at that too. All of the swelling is gone, and even though there's still a slightly unnatural bend where the bone didn't heal quite straight, the only pain that I feel when I lift it is a dull ache that barely even registers. Smiling broadly, I start flexing my fingers, laughing when they move exactly like they're supposed to.

"I feel amazing," I say, finally answering Katniss's question. I probably look like I've been through hell and back, but considering that I practically have, that's rather understandable.

Katniss smiles for a second, but then she straightens her lips and scowls at me. "Luckily. You could have been killed."

"What happened to the 'thank you' I got yesterday?" I ask.

"Two days ago," Katniss corrects. "You slept all through yesterday, and most of today." Her frown deepens. "And I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Did you honestly expect me to let you go by yourself?"

Katniss doesn't answer. She obviously believed my lie. Not like I blame her. Everyone always believes my lies.

"Come on, Katniss. I'm fine, and I saved your ass. You know I did. If I hadn't been there-"

"Thresh would have yanked Clove off of me and I would've been fine."

I shake my head. "Thresh would've turned on you next. You killed District Five. Even if he was counting his debt to you separately from his one to me, that would've erased any thought of owing you that he ever had."

"He wouldn't have hurt me," insists Katniss stubbornly, and because I know that nothing can convince Katniss to change her mind if she thinks she's right, I sigh and give up.

"You just go on thinking that."

We go quiet for a while, with me studying my not-straight, but also not-broken arm and pretending that I'm not pissed off that Katniss is ungrateful for my amazing heroism. I feel Katniss glance up at me several times, and after a while she takes to just staring at me, not making even the tiniest effort to be sneaky about it.

I look up and raise a brow, silently asking if this means she's going to apologize and be reasonable. When she opens her mouth, I'm sure that I've won, but then she starts talking, going off in a direction I really don't expect.

"You know," she says slowly, "I was actually _upset_ when you gave up wanting to come with me so easily. It isn't fair of me, but I was expecting you to put up more of a fight because I guess… you always had before. Then, when Clove started talking, I couldn't help but think that maybe she was right, and that you didn't think I was worth it."

Well, damn.

I scramble to say something, but Katniss quickly adds, "I'm sorry. I was mad at you for not coming, and now I'm snapping at you because you came."

"Clove wasn't-" I start haltingly. Katniss bites her lip and nods slowly.

"I know she was lying, Marvel. I just wasn't thinking straight." Katniss's eyes lock with mine, and I immediately know that she isn't as sure about this as she's making herself out to be. I almost start to panic, even begin to come up with things I can say to convince her that I _do _like her, when I realize that she doesn't look mad.

"Good," I say, relaxing as I convince myself that I'm only imagining that Katniss is suspicious. Really, her not trusting me would just be bad for the both of us.

"I still don't think Thresh would've killed me," Katniss clarifies, because she's getting close to admitting she was wrong and I get the impression that Katniss never admits to being wrong about anything. "But I... I shouldn't be mad at you for coming. It would've been worse if you hadn't."

"I'd do it again a hundred times over," I say honestly. Then, smirking, I add, "Besides, I obviously wouldn't have had a broken arm to begin with if I didn't think you were worth it."

Katniss smiles at me, and we share one of those ridiculous moments like they have in Capitol movies, where everything gets really quiet and for an instant I almost let myself entertain the idea of _really_ kissing Katniss Everdeen.

Then her stomach growls and ruins the moment so perfectly that I immediately burst out laughing.

"Maybe we should get some food." I smile broadly and add, "Then I'll say something else that's wonderfully romantic and we can pick up right where we left off, staring soulfully into each others' eyes, like nothing else exists."

Katniss, who's turned a funny red color from embarrassment, rolls her eyes and says, "I'll set out something to eat, but everything that came out of your mouth after that was ridiculous."

"Oh, I agree with you completely. While your eyes are beautiful, I think I like your lips better. If you're up for it, we can do something a little more physical-"

"Marvel-"

"What?" I ask. "You have to realize I wasn't exactly asleep for that kiss you gave me earlier." I waggle my eyebrows and scoot closer to her. "I know you want me."

It takes a few moments before Katniss realizes what I'm talking about. All within the space of a second, her face goes red, her smile falters, and she scrambles to say, "It didn't mean what you think it meant."

"Well, I didn't think it meant much more than 'I might die, so here's a kiss'. So… if I think it meant _that_ and you say it didn't mean what I think it meant, does that mean you were really actually thinking something more along the lines of, 'I'm totally in love with you and find you irresistibly attractive so I'm going kiss you now'?"

"No."

"You don't think I'm irresistibly attractive?"

"That's not what I meant!" Katniss protests, a tiny bit of frustration seeping into her voice.

"So you _do _think I'm attractive?" I ask, having a lot more fun with this than I should be. Really, I'm getting friend-zoned left and right, but since Katniss is actually kinda almost sorta my _friend_, that's actually kinda almost sorta tolerable.

At least until the poor girl gets over this ridiculous phase of denial that's she's going through.

"We were supposed to be getting food," Katniss reminds me pointedly, already turning to grab a backpack, moving away from me so that I can't see how wonderfully red her cheeks are getting.

"You can't hide from your feelings forever," I say lightly.

"Right now, forever isn't all that long," Katniss reminds me. She pulls some of the groosling she shot down yesterday out of her bag and begins setting it on the plate that Gloss sent us with our last meal, mixing the funky-looking meat with berries and herbs.

I can't help but notice that she's careful to look over almost every berry she sets out.

I don't blame her. I'd very much hate to die like Peeta did.

"Maybe not in the arena," I say. "But you seem to forget that I'm planning on getting you out of here."

Katniss doesn't say anything, and I can kind of understand why. I was raised to think that there isn't a chance I could possibly lose if I got into the Games. It was something that was drilled into me so strongly that I can still feel it, that there's something in my mindset that tells me I _can't _lose, even after everything I've gone through that's proven otherwise.

There's also a niggling pit of worry that comes with being so close, though. Like it's almost okay to think that we can make it out, but also like I shouldn't even hope for it, like even saying words like 'home' or 'victory', like allowing myself to feel any speck of hope at all is some kind of terrible sin that's just going to leave me miserable and disappointed.

I can only imagine how Katniss, who I get the impression went into this without thinking she had all that much chance to win in the first place, feels right now.

"How do you think we'll be able to do it?" asks Katniss after a second. She picks up a berry and pops it into her mouth.

"Get out of here?" I ask. She nods, and I shrug. "I dunno. You're fine, and I'm fine, and we can both use our weapons, so… I was kind of thinking we could just head out tomorrow and start hunting."

"You know that Thresh let us go twice."

"And _you_ know that it's him or us," I remind Katniss. I glance at some of the meat and wrinkle my nose, opting for a reddish-tinted berry instead. "What would your sister think if you decided to let it be him?"

"I guess you're right," says Katniss. I can practically hear her thinking something along the lines of, 'I wish we could all get out', but she isn't stupid and that's something that we obviously aren't allowed to say. Not here. Not with all of Panem listening.

We fall silent for a little while as we finish eating. When the food is mostly gone, Katniss starts picking up, and I get to my feet and grab my spear, saying that I'm going to go throw a bit, to test out my arm. Katniss hesitates for a second before giving me the go-ahead.

It hurts. Even when I only stand a few yards away from a tree and draw my shoulder back about half as far as I should, there's an uncomfortable aching in my arm and my chest protests just a little at being stretched so far. That's fine with me, though, because I actually _can _throw. My first toss doesn't stick, but when I pick it up and try again, it goes straight where I want it to, albeit a little less forcefully than I would like.

When I start getting used to it a little more, and get the chance to make a few concessions for being weaker than I'm used to and having slight injuries that naturally mess up my form, the spear starts going farther and sticking better. Harder.

I don't throw too much since I don't want to screw up anything that was just healed, but I'm still smiling and in a great mood by the time that the sun starts creeping down and I slip back into the cave.

"It works," I say, gesturing to my arm. "We're good for tomorrow, I think."

Katniss sighs, like she knows this should be a good thing but doesn't quite want it to be.

"Do you think you'll be able to take on either Thresh or Cato?"

I roll my eyes. "Neither of them have distance weapons. I'll just have to throw the spear, or you'll shoot an arrow, before they're even within twenty feet of us, and we'll both be peachy."

"In the forest…"

"We'd be screwed," I admit. Then, more optimistically, "But that just means we make the final fight take place somewhere else... The Cornucopia is easy enough to defend, and it's sitting right in the middle of an empty clearing. Let's just go back in that direction tomorrow." I think of something and add, "If Cato didn't get his bag, he won't be too far away from there, anyway. Not unless District Two had enough sponsors to fix up both him _and _Clove."

Katniss takes a deep breath and exhales sharply. "This really is almost over, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I say, half disbelieving it myself. "It is." I hesitate a second, then go on, "It's kind of hard to imagine getting out of here, isn't it? Now, it almost feels like we haven't ever lived outside of the arena, and all of our memories of everything else are just…"

"A dream," finishes Katniss.

"Yeah," I say. "A dream."

"When I fell unconscious," Katniss says, "I dreamt I was back home. Gale and I were… _trading _for food for our families, and Prim was tugging me over to the window in the bakery, to look at the cakes on display in the window. I want that back so badly."

I think of Peeta, saying that he did the cakes at the bakery. I open my mouth to ask if there'll even be any cakes there anymore, but then I shut it because it's a stupid question and it isn't something Katniss needs to be asked right now anyway.

"Only a couple more days," I say gently instead. "Maybe even just one."

"That still seems too long," Katniss says.

"Why don't you go to sleep?" I suggest. "Then you can dream again, and go back home right now."

"We can both sleep," says Katniss. "You don't need to keep watch right now, and if we're leaving tomorrow, we'll probably need it."

I don't argue, and Katniss moves so that she's closer to me, sliding under my arm and resting her head gently on my chest, while I pull her close and think that maybe it's not such a bad thing, having the arena become my life.

Before, everything I was consisted of constantly coming in second to my twelve-year-old sister and caring more about myself than anyone else and looking down at everyone who wasn't as rich as I was. Now it's somehow turned into looking out for a little girl who felt l like my _real _little sister, and taking on Cato so that two people I cared about could escape, and dragging my beat-up ass too many miles to look out for a gray-eyed girl from District Twelve.

And whether it be insane or not, I know exactly which life sounds better to me right now.

…

When I wake up the next morning, Katniss is already up, setting out breakfast for us as she gets all of our things together. I blink off my sleep and stretch, grinning at the glorious feeling of being able to move my upper body without screaming in pain. There are even birds chirping outside. Definitely a good omen.

"Out of the arena by tonight?" I ask lightly.

"I hope so," Katniss says, trying to force a smile. I can feel that she's worried, and it kind of wears off on me as I get over the sunshine and chirpy birds and take in our exact situations.

We're so damn close, but close doesn't mean shit when there are two two-hundred pound beasts with terrifying weapons standing in our way.

Katniss and I, both feeling the tension that comes with being down to the final four, don't say much of anything as we eat. I try to crack a few bad jokes, make a couple comments in an attempt to break the ice, but nothing really helps all that much.

While it was easy enough to be overjoyed by being healthy and relatively uninjured and two tributes away from going home yesterday, now that we're actually faced with the prospect of going out to meet those last two tributes, the idea is more terrifying than I could have ever expected.

I think that's why I do it. Because I'm scared.

Or maybe it's not because I'm scared and rather because I've unknowingly wanted to do it for a really long time.

Either way, when Katniss says that it's time to go, and we gather up as many things as we think it's practical to take with us, and begin to head out, I stop her before we're even a handful of footsteps away from the cave.

"Nothing might happen today," I find myself saying, my voice slightly uncertain because I think I'm being sincere- sincere or crazy, but for some crazy reason my heart wants me to say sincere- and I'm so unused to not lying or elaborating or working to make things sound prettier or better than they are that I hardly know _how _to be sincere. "Probably... nothing will happen. Just because the Gamemakers like to draw this stuff out, and ending everything today would be too anticlimactic."

"But...?" asks Katniss.

I swallow. "But something _will _happen eventually. We might win. I hope we do win. But we also might die, and... before we're tossed into a life-and-death situation where saying all of this would be extremely inappropriate and probably kind of stupid, I just want to tell you... to remind you... that I do care about you. More than anything. I mean, you _have _to realize that I've been a shit person my whole life, and... now I'm not. Or at least not as much as I was. Because of you."

"You sound like you think we're going to die," says Katniss, biting her lip and looking at her feet, slightly uncomfortable.

"I don't," I say. "I just... felt like I should say something. Just in case." I take a deep breath, and, feeling more awkward than I have in my entire life, I go on, "And you know how you got a 'just in case I die' kind of kiss before you went running off to the Cornucopia?"

"Marvel-"

"I don't think it'd be all that fair of you if you didn't let me have one, too."

Then, before she can protest, I lean down and kiss Katniss Everdeen on the lips. Not a quick peck and pull back, like I did the first time when I was too terrified of getting maimed to do anything else.

This time, I cup her cheek with my hand and kiss her long and soft, closing my eyes and letting myself notice things that I never thought to notice before. Like how soft her nose is when it brushes against mine, or the way her mouth tastes like berries, or how never in my life have I kissed a girl who didn't have sticky shit slathered all over her lips and that it's really, really nice to kiss real lips. To just kiss _Katniss. _

As soon as I'm able to stop, I slowly pull away and run my thumb over Katniss's lips, gazing straight into her eyes while my stomach flips over itself and my hands start shaking because everything in me wants to kiss her again. I hadn't realized how badly, how terribly badly I wanted to do that until I actually did it, and now... all I can think is that I want to do it again.

It's fucked up because Katniss didn't even kiss me back, but... I've never wanted a girl so badly in my life. I'm rich and from District One, and I've had poor girls- girls who were totally off-limits because of my mother- do everything they could to try to whore themselves out to me, have had their mothers try the exact same things, and I don't remember a single time where I've had to physically force myself not to go after them. Not like I'm having to force myself not to kiss- just to _kiss_- Katniss again.

"Sorry," I say after a second. "I lied. That was a hell of a lot more to me than a 'just in case I die' kiss."

Katniss takes a second too long before she quietly says, "We should get going."

"Right," I say, and turn to start walking, but not before I see Katniss's hands going up to her lips for just a moment, right before she follows after me.

An enormous smile spreads across my face, and for just an instant, I'm able to shrug out from underneath the terrible fear that's become almost suffocating since the Games have started to wind down. For an instant, I'm able to smile and be happy and thrilled as I joyfully, _terrifyingly,_ realize that, even though I'm still confused about a lot of things, whatever I'm feeling towards Katniss Everdeen is a hell of a lot more real than I've ever let myself think about considering before.

And that maybe that's not completely a bad thing.


	20. Remember Not to Forget

Katniss and I barely go another two feet before the lack of noise- which I'd been too distracted to notice before- becomes painfully obvious. Both of us lock eyes before we rush forward a little more, out from behind the rocks that hid our view of the stream, and up to the riverbank.

There's no water left. The stream had been waist-deep after all the rainfall, but within the day and a half since the Feast, the Gamemakers have drained it completely.

"What the hell?" I ask, staring at the dusty streambed.

"Um. Maybe they're trying to force us to the lake," says Katniss.

I glance at her.

"But we're already going to the lake. They don't need to force us." This makes no sense. We were planning on heading out to the Cornucopia already, and even if we weren't, there's a good chance that Cato and Thresh are close enough to each other that a fight between them has to be imminent. Everyone's going to be held over for a while longer. There's no reason to rope Katniss and me into a fight _now_.

So why…?

I glance back at the cave and frown when I realize that I totally missed something.

Cutting off the water supply doesn't just mean we'll leave the cave. It means we won't go back.

The Gamemakers don't want us in the action right now. They couldn't care less about that. They just want to make sure that we aren't going to head back to the cave any time later.

Because they want the Games done quick.

I hope that it's because Katniss and I are so popular, that they want us out of the arena before we get hurt, to keep the people happy.

The only problem is that there's a more likely reason that the Capitol is trying to wrap the Games up quickly, and it isn't nearly as optimistic. Maybe I have my… less intelligent moments, but really, even _I _know that Katniss and, well, I suppose I, have been bright red 'Capitol Sucks' flags ever since we paired up.

I don't know how I didn't see it before, but with Rue and Peeta and even just talking about each other's districts… her starving in hers, and me being so painfully disproving of some of the things that go on in mine, all of it's been dangerous as hell, and now I have to wonder if we didn't take things too far.

Is Snow is trying to finish the Games off before we do anything else that he doesn't approve of?

"Either way, it doesn't matter," says Katniss, tearing me away from my thoughts. "We have full canteens, and the lake isn't three hours away. We'll be fine."

"Of course," I say lightly. I figure now isn't the best time to mention that we could be inadvertently upsetting Snow, nor that I'm rather concerned he's doing his best to get us both off air ASAP.

I mean, that's ridiculous, right? There's no way he's actually planning on doing something to us.

Is there?

Katniss and I both glance at the river one more time, and then we continue walking again, more keyed up than before. It's nerve-wracking. Like crossing the Rubicon, I think the expression's supposed to be. Our water supply is toast, we have nothing to turn back to, and the only way to go is forward.

Forward to a battlefield where we'll get locked into a fight to the death.

A fight that I'm really praying won't be rigged.

Since we're really not in any hurry at all, Katniss and I decide to check out various other water sources as we go so that we can officially cross off the possibility of a Plan B.

Every single place we visit is dry as bone. The message couldn't be more clear if Claudius Templesmith announced it to the sound of blaring trumpets.

Haul your sorry asses to the lake.

After we're done checking out a small pond that Katniss remembers running into the first day, way over by where Cato's little fire burnt through the trees, Katniss and I double back the way we came, the sun already starting to creep a bit lower in the sky.

It's almost completely down when we finally come to a stop in front of the tracker jacker tree.

"I think we should stop here," says Katniss. "The Cornucopia is close, and it'd be safer to sleep off the ground."

"Nonsense-" I start. Before I can finish telling her about my pathological fear of heights and complete inability to climb trees, a howl cuts me off. I swallow my words and look towards Katniss, who's staring in the direction of the sound with enormous eyes. I go for a laugh and gesture towards the tree. "What are you waiting for? Get climbing."

There's another howl, and Katniss immediately starts scrambling up the tree.

I'm less graceful, and Katniss has to continually tell me not to put my foot here or there, or that I'll fall on my ass if I try to grab that branch, but with a lot of instruction from her and some moaning from me on account of my still miserably aching arm, she gets me far enough off the ground that I don't have to worry about any terrifying howling creatures.

"Do you think those are for us?" asks Katniss. "They sounded close."

I think back to my inkling suspicion about Snow not being thrilled with us and hesitantly say, "I don't _think _so. The Gamemakers would've had them come out of nowhere if they were supposed to kill us. Since they gave us a chance to hide, I assume they were for-"

I stop when this terrible, gut-wrenching scream echoes from not very far away. It's warped enough that I can't tell if it's Thresh or Cato, but I almost… I don't want it to be either of them. Cato, who I just saw screaming for Clove to stay alive, and Thresh, who knows about owing and is a really good person and genuinely seemed to care for Rue.

The scream stops abruptly. A second later, a loud _BOOM _sounds throughout the arena.

"-him," I finish weakly. Katniss shivers, and I feel like doing the same thing.

One tribute left, but I'm hardly happy about it. The terrible scream echoes in my head.

Who in the hell deserves _that_?

A hovercraft comes down only about half a mile away from us, just visible through the thinned out trees. I'm guessing it's near the Cornucopia, which leads me to think that it's Cato who got killed, since I saw Thresh running off to that wheat field earlier.

I rethink my guess after a second.

Why would the Gamemakers kill off the favorite? Cato and I have been enemies from the start, and if it's really him they killed, they'd be taking away the audience's chance to see the final fight between us, the one that would decide everything.

With Thresh… there were a couple times when we were almost working together. There isn't half as much charge between Thresh and me or even Thresh and Katniss. That fight would be _nothing _compared to an epic showdown between Cato and me.

I almost have myself convinced that I'm wrong, and that Thresh must have went back to the lake to hunt down Cato, but when the picture appears in the sky, a familiar pair of cold blue eyes is glaring down at me.

My hands immediately get sweaty.

"Why?" Katniss asks. There are so many questions behind the single word.

Why would they kill Cato? Why do we have to kill Thresh? Why couldn't we all just survive?

I can't answer any of them because my responses are all crazy and dangerous, so instead I remind her, "Doesn't matter. We've only got one more kill. Just think of that."

Katniss is silent for a moment before she echoes, "One more kill."

A mutt- or I'm assuming it's a mutt and not a normal wolf- howls, and Katniss swallows. A moment passes, and then Katniss, who was on a slightly thinner branch a few feet above mine, scoots down towards where I'm sitting. There's really no room for the two of us, but she settles herself half on my lap with one of her legs hanging down off the ledge, answering my somewhat shocked expression with an, "I don't want to sleep by myself tonight."

I nod and pull Katniss closer. We only brought one sleeping bag with us, leaving the other two in the cave, so we drape it over the both of us to keep warm as the heat of the afternoon disappears with the setting sun.

"One of us needs to stay awake," says Katniss after a moment.

"I will first." I don't think that I can sleep all that well anyway. The howling is loud and terrifying, and Cato's death is bothering me more than it should.

Maybe I hated him, but it's just… remembering the way he screamed for Clove makes writing off his death harder than it should be.

Cato was so painfully human. He wasn't a machine, and… I guess I can empathize with him, scarily enough. About being raised to turn into an asshole and not care about anyone else, and I think… when he was arguing with me the day he broke my arm, trying to kill me, and he seemed so… _off… _it was him going insane, almost like I've been. Just in a slightly different way.

With Clove dying and him losing everyone and… having a shitty time in general, I just… Now that I've apparently turned deep and philosophical, I can see that we have more in common than I thought. That we _had _a lot more in common than I thought.

It's terrifying. Cato is the first _real _Career to die. Glimmer wasn't… she hardly counted, and Clove was all skill and no size. Cato, though… he was _more _of a Career than I am. More of a fighter.

And now he's dead.

If he can die, who says I can't, too?

"Marvel?"

I look down, somewhat unsurprised to see Katniss still awake.

"Yeah?"

"I won't let you die like Cato."

With slightly bigger than normal gray eyes and dusty cheeks and hair sticking up wildly out of her braid, Katniss looks like a little kid who got lost in the forest for a bit too long. Even just holding her... I can feel just how small she is, tiny compared to me, and so, so skinny from the last few weeks, from her whole life in general.

It would be so easy to laugh, to doubt, to wonder how in the hell _she_ could possibly keep _me_ from dying.

But I know better, so I smile and drop a light kiss on the back of her neck.

"I believe you."

After that, I don't worry quite so much. I don't sleep and neither does Katniss, but rather than spending the night acting jumpy and paranoid, we both sit on that branch, trying not to think and settling into the realization that, one way or another, this is most likely going to be our last night in the arena.

It's a strange, indescribable feeling. Knowing that as soon as the darkness fades and the sun starts shining, something is going to happen that'll change _everything. _That I'll either be dead, or… or whatever in the hell they call it when a person's body is lifted out of the arena with chunks of their mind and sanity and maybe even their heart still hanging back behind them.

I think Katniss is feeling the same way, and it's not really worry, or anxiety, or even fear, but something deeper that's hope and hopelessness and terror and anticipation and a million other things all mixed together.

The mutts keep howling, and I keep holding Katniss, and whenever I start to think about what's going to happen, or whenever the worse of the things I'm feeling comes on just a little bit too strong, I remind myself of Katniss's words and somehow manage to hope that maybe we'll be able to get each other out.

The night really doesn't seem all that long, and we get going early the next morning.

Funnily enough, for me not being a morning person, I'm not tired at all. More ready than anything.

Ready to get the hell out of here.

As I stumble out of the tree after Katniss, I realize that there aren't any chirping birds like there were yesterday morning. The mutts aren't howling anymore, but nothing else is making a sound either. Thick gray clouds are pressed low over the forest, giving the arena a dark and claustrophobic kind of vibe.

"Well... this is kind of cliche," I try to joke. My voice is naturally loud and even though I shoot for a whisper, the comment seems to come out a shout.

"Marvel," Katniss hisses. Thresh hearing us isn't really the problem. It's just that any noise at all feels awkward and wrong. It's almost like we're attending a funeral and expected to be quiet.

"Sorry," I say quickly.

We begin our walk in silence, not saying anything up until Katniss quietly asks, "Do you think today's the last day?"

"I'd assume so," I say in a low voice. "Cato died… eight hours ago, at the most, so people will be getting bored by this afternoon. There'll be a little time to build a little more tension and give everyone a chance to place final bets, and then…"

Katniss doesn't answer, but what can she say? That then we'll die? That we'll kill a boy who saved my life?

I make a face at the ugly silence she leaves hanging and optimistically say what I want to hear. "Then we'll head back to the Capitol and _shower_."

Katniss cracks a forced smile. "And _eat_."

"See? Even you're getting tired of eating unappetizing bird carcass."

"I think I'm getting more tired of listening to you complain," says Katniss. We both force out laughs that are only half genuine, then let our conversation trail off as we continue forward.

With us not being far from the Cornucopia and it still being relatively early, Katniss and I make no move to hurry. We find a bush and she picks berries that we're too nervous to eat, and we stop more often than we need to so we can rest and drink from our canteens.

When we do finally mosey into the main clearing, it's empty. Or at least we assume it's empty, even if our first move is to make sure that Thresh isn't actually hiding in the Cornucopia. He isn't exactly the sneaky type, so I'm really not surprised when we find it empty.

"Well," I say, "I guess all we can do now is wait."

And that's exactly what we do. Katniss and I amble over to the lake and sit with our backs to it, so that Thresh or any of those terrible mutts can't sneak up behind us.

The sun sets too quickly. I'm not an astrologist or astronomer or whoever studies that crap, but I do know that when I can actually _see _the light fading from the sky, there's something not quite right going on. Katniss notices too. I can see it in her expression. It's kind of clear that the excitement from Cato's death is already gone up in the Capitol. Bets are in.

It's time for shit to hit the fan.

The first mutt howls right on cue, and I get to my feet immediately, spear up. Katniss does the same and raises her bow.

Not two seconds later, Thresh comes bursting through the trees, moving like a possessed hippo, fast and strong and not paying any attention to his surroundings. He doesn't even glance at us. Katniss fires an arrow, and it dinks off his chest, falling harmlessly to the ground.

Body armor.

It isn't around his face, though. That's easy to see. It's a smaller target, but he isn't even looking at us. It should be easy. Just hit him in the face. By the expression he's wearing, I know that there's no way he's going to be able to dodge it. Not when his focus is so obviously on something other than us. I even start getting excited about how simple this is going to be.

Then I see the terrifying creatures that Thresh is running from.

I was right when I guessed the things that killed Cato weren't normal wolves. They're bigger, for one thing, and there's something about them that's disturbingly human, although I can't quite place it, not from this distance. What I can place is that there are more than a dozen of them and they're all heading straight for us.

Thresh charges past Katniss and me, and, at the top of my lungs, I cry, "Run!"

The three of us haul ass to the Cornucopia. Thresh is beastly fast and gets there a good distance before I do. Between me not being all that coordinated and constantly looking back at Katniss to make sure she isn't falling behind, I'm not going as quickly as I should be. I still make it a foot or so ahead of her, jumping up easily and rolling onto the top of the smooth metal.

My instincts scream at me to find Thresh, to take out Thresh, but I shake them off and whirl around. Immediately I thrust my hand out towards Katniss, yanking her up as hard as I can just as the mutts reach us.

Ignoring the snarling, growling creatures, I let myself attempt to slip back into the mindset I developed during training; the one that taught me that the other tributes are always the biggest threats. The things to kill. I stumble to my feet and tightly grip my spear, eyes flying to Thresh. My current target. My future victim.

He's kneeling on the gold metal, panting and exhausted, but with his giant, sword-like knife out and his eyes on Katniss and me.

His arm is raised up, and I swear he's going to throw the knife, or at least lunge at me, so I move, preparing to step in front of Katniss if I need to, my own weapon ready to go at the first sign that I have to use it.

Then Thresh's eyes lock on something behind me and he mouths some word that I don't catch.

"Huh?" I ask, admittedly confused.

"Rue," says Thresh, and as soon as I hear the word, I stupidly turn around, forgetting about the danger and following Thresh's gaze. The mutts are all clambering around the tail of the Cornucopia, clawing at the metal, some of them making attempts to climb it only to skid back down, claws screeching as they drag against the smooth surface.

I don't know why he said 'Rue' at first, don't understand it. Not until my eyes settle on the smallest of the mutts.

The last thing I remembered about Rue, the thing that I tucked away into the back of my brain to never, ever, forget, was her eyes. Her big, possum eyes that saw _everything. _

Now they're looking up at me again, in a ferocious wolf's face, with finger-length fangs snapping up at me, saliva foaming around the mouth and body quivering with bloodlust.

Rue.

An arrow goes through its head, and I notice Katniss standing beside me with shaking hands, eyes wide and mouth set in a firm line. I swallow hard and for just a second let my eyes scan the other mutts. I notice the Glimmer mutt's blonde fur and those haunting, startling green eyes. And… there's Cato. Chilling blue eyes and hate radiating off every inch of him. District Five. Sleek and bright red, now practically a real fox. Or at least a real fox on experimental steroids.

Then… god, the worst, because there's no way in hell Peeta's eyes should look like _that_, but he's staring at me like he wants to kill me, at Katniss like he'd love to tear the flesh off her bones, and it's making me sick.

I turn away in disgust.

Just in time to see the knife heading straight for my neck.

Reflexively, I fall to the Cornucopia and land with a hard thud that knocks the wind out of me. I can feel the blade tear through the air, inches above where my head was.

Thresh, taking advantage of my vulnerable position, stalks forward, only pausing when an arrow glances off his chest, two inches below his neck. He barely spares Katniss a glance before looking back at me with deadly focus. Nostrils flaring like a livid bull's, he raises his arm to bring down his knife.

I don't bother holding up my spear, full well knowing that the shaft isn't strong enough to hold up to his strike. I keep my eyes on the blade, waiting for the right moment, not letting my attention drift. One second, then two pass before he stabs the knife down hard, right towards my head. I roll out of the way a millisecond before it would've split my skull.

There's an instant of relief, and then I can feel myself slipping towards the ground, dread stopping my heart as I realize that I rolled farther than I should have; the entire left side of my body is hanging over the edge of the Cornucopia, and the rest of me is terrifyingly close to following. My spear falls to the ground in my panic, but I hardly notice as I scramble to find some kind of grip, hands clambering for _anything _to hang onto.

My fingers finally latch around a groove in the metal, and I pull hard, heart thudding in my ears as I get my knee up onto the Cornucopia. I let myself think that I'm safe, that I'll be okay, right before something clamps down onto my leg and starts pulling me back in the other direction.

Moving more quickly than I have in my entire life, my free hand is at my belt, closing around the hilt of a hunting knife. I can feel myself slipping again, can feel the shock of sharp teeth in my leg and blood streaming down broken flesh, but I push all my fear away and crane my head backwards, time slowing as I carefully take aim, somewhere knowing that I have one shot to save my life while instinct fuels me to the point that I hardly even comprehend I'm in any danger at all.

Exhaling sharply, I flick the blade straight into the mutt's eye.

It lets go and I scurry up the Cornucopia, head spinning, eyes trying to focus while my scrambled brain attempts to make sense of what's going on. I see Katniss standing in front of Thresh, bow raised and arrow notched. Thresh watches her carefully, standing like a predator getting ready to pounce.

After a long moment where neither of them do anything, Thresh seems to get tired of waiting. I can see what he's going to do before he does it. Anger, instinct, protectiveness... one of those things, or maybe all of them, takes over and I start struggling to my feet. It hurts like hell and I can't straighten, can't put any weight on my left leg at all.

I'm not quite standing when Thresh lowers his head and charges straight at Katniss, still holding his knife, obviously planning on forcing her over the edge. I barely manage to launch myself off my good foot at the last possible second, falling into Thresh's back just before he hits Katniss. I don't even try to tackle him, instead wrapping my arms around his neck and clasping my hands together tightly.

Thresh stops dead in his tracks and bucks his shoulders like he's a wild horse, but I refuse to let go. Even when my bad leg slams into the ground and my eyes start watering with pain, I only bite my tongue and tighten my grip, literally hanging on for dear life.

Once Thresh is slowed down, even only marginally, Katniss seizes the tiny moment of opportunity. She takes one more quick step towards him, bow up, arrow pointed right at his uncovered face.

I loosen my grip on Thresh's neck once it's apparent that she's in control. As I fall, my bad leg hits the Cornucopia hard, and I collapse into a pile, letting out a low groan when I realize just how badly my leg was hurt. I can feel Katniss sneak a look at me, but when I collect myself enough to look at her, all of her attention is back on Thresh.

The indomitable ox from District Eleven. Now in an impossible position that he'll never work his way out of.

I can't see the expression on his face, but as I force myself to stand, I manage to make out what Thresh is feeling by watching his enormous shoulders. Tense at first. Then straighter, determined. Right before he realizes that he's screwed. That's when they bend forward with resignation.

I push back any pity that I'm tempted to feel, and, once I'm somewhat upright, shakily draw Glimmer's sword. Katniss is hesitating, which is hardly surprising given that I know how she feels about killing. I should take Thresh out now, save her the heartache. He has his back to me. I could kill him so easily. I _have _to kill him.

Thresh drops his knife and says, "You win." I move the sword into a position where it's easier to use, figuring that that's that. He gave us permission to take him out. It's done.

Except Thresh isn't finished speaking. He turns his head and looks at me.

"No. You kill me, you give them what they want."

"Huh?"

"No matter what, I die. But I want it my way. Not theirs." He blinks. The fight is still in his expression, eyes fiery and face lit up with something like realization. As if he just had an epiphany about the meaning of life. "Rue, me, we trust you. Both of you. Make things better. For my family."

Thresh takes a step away from us.

Neither Katniss or I move.

His face is turned more in my direction now, and I fancy I can see him thinking, 'It's not too late, Look at those morons. Too shocked to stop me.'

His eyes drop speculatively to his enormous knife.

Then he looks at Katniss and me. Takes note of my sword and her bow.

Any hope he had left turns to dust with the realization that he can't kill one of us without the other killing him. He shoots one more look at his scary-huge knife, like he's still weighing whether or not he should go down fighting, and then…

Then everything slows down. Thresh takes a long breath and looks towards the sky. He mutters something under his breath, an old prayer it sounds like, before he solemnly says, "Don't forget."

I'm not sure if he's talking about what he said to us, about making things better for his family, or if he's speaking to Panem about something else entirely. Either way, I don't get a chance to think about it at all. Not before Thresh launches himself backwards off the Cornucopia.

I panic. I don't know what to say or do and all that I can think when I hear the dogs start yelping with glee is that it's going to take forever for them to kill him.

Katniss must realize the same thing because she draws back her bowstring and fires down into the crowd of mutts.

The arrow hits its mark. A cannon goes off.

Then; silence.

Katniss and I look at each other. We should be happy, but I'm shaking everywhere and my leg is bleeding, and I feel like I'm trying to orientate myself after surviving a tornado. Katniss doesn't look any better.

The deafening quiet fits the moment so well that it takes me several moments before I realize that it isn't supposed to be like this.

"We won," I say. I gingerly lower myself to the Cornucopia, settling my leg out in front of me. My hands are scarlet when I pull them back. I hardly notice. "Why aren't they taking us out of here?"

Then it hits me hard.

What if the rule change was a fluke? What if the Gamemakers didn't honestly believe that Katniss and I would get this far together, and now they're going to take it back?

I look at Katniss and see her staring at me with wide, worried eyes.

What in the hell am I going to do if they try to make us kill each other? I don't want to die, but I almost want Katniss to live even more than that, and…

The sound of trumpets, trumpets that were supposed to go off a long, silent minute ago, cuts off my thoughts.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you, the winners of the 74th Hunger Games; Marvel Metzger of District One, and Katniss Everdeen from District Twelve," Claudius Templesmith booms, his voice strangely hesitant, his words not as excited as they should be.

I'm not as relieved, not like I'm supposed to be, and several moments pass before I can speak.

"We did it," I say numbly.

I think of Rue. Of Peeta. Conversations in a cave. Thresh, breaking up the anticipated finale by killing himself rather than fighting to take at least one of us out with him.

My stomach sinks hard when I realize that there was a hell of a lot more we did than just win the Hunger Games.

**A/N- **

**Okay, I did get this chapter out a little quicker, even though I'm kind of mad because I had it half-finished last Friday and didn't find the time to finish it over the weekend. Oh, well, it's done now, and I'm really, really interested in hearing what you guys have to say about it since the ending is really different than what I think a lot of people were expecting. I know that a lot of little things in the chapter may not make perfect sense, like there not being a rule change, or the Gamemakers letting Cato die, but it'll be explained and Marvel will reason through it pretty soon if it isn't clear yet. **

**Other than that, thanks so much for all the amazing reviews. We got to 400 in less than twenty chapters, which is a first for any of my stories, so thank you guys so much. I also have to comment about how so many of your reviews are so long and thought out. I have a couple Harry Potter stories with more reviews than this one, but neither of them have ones that are as detailed as your guys'. I really hope you keep it up. _  
_**

**Alright, last announcement and I'll let you go. There are only a few chapters left in this, but... I will do a sequel, which I mentioned in the review replies but never officially. **

**That's it except for review replies. Thanks for being awesome and please review. **

**Thanks to-**

**abugsaunt- **Thanks. Hopefully you keep on reading up through the sequel. **tricksk8er- **Glad you like it. **Wetstar- **Haha, sorry for being a distrction :-). Thrilled that you like the story so much, though. **Hahukum Konn- **Well, the looming sense of confrontation was pretty dead on. Hope the final fight wasn't disappointing. **Illena Starbright- **Hopefully he'll get through to her anyway... Although Katniss is just _Katniss _enough that it still may take a while. **brooke13243546- **There you go. Marvel not dying, although he did manage to hurt himself again. Anyway, thanks for the review. **whenshesmiles14-**Thanks for all the lovely compliments. I really appreciate the support. **My Happiness is Only a Mask- **I honestly can't wait until I get a chance for her to really kiss him back either. I've been brainstorming ideas since halfway through the story, and I'm still not sure what I'm going to do for it. Either way, I'm glad that you made an exception to ship Marvel/Katniss for this story. **Vaughn Tyler- **Thanks. **mh21- **I guess I kind of did the opposite of not having them kill Thresh, but there was a purpose to it that I kind of hinted at at one point this chapter and that'll be explained a little better later. Thanks for another great, long review, and I really appreciate all your compliments. I don't know about being good enough to get rich as an author later on, but the comment still made me smile. **RachellovesPeeta- **Thanks for reviewing; hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint. **Guest- **Thanks. **Even. The. Stars. Refuse. To. Shine- **Well, there was the finale. Hopefully it didn't disappoint. Thanks for taking the time to review. **lambtastic**- That's an interesting thought, having Marvel/Katniss turn on each other as things get tougher. From what I've got planned so far of the sequel, that's actually going to be one issue, which may not quite make sense now, but it'll become pretty obvious within the last few chapters of the first part of the story. **Crazily Awesome Girl- **Thanks. **michachu- **There you go; both Marvel and Katniss survived... at least for now. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. **Huntress4319- **Thanks for the review. **whatever- **So glad you loved the kiss. Thanks for taking the time to leave a comment. **Cassie- **Thanks, and I'm glad you're planning on tuning in for the sequel. This has been so long that it's kind of amazing you're willing to tune in for more. **Guest- **Thanks for reviewing. **Sharpay Evans 11- **Hopefully you liked the conclusion. Thanks for reviewing. **Jillyan Puckleberry- **Hopefully this was up soon enough. Thanks for giving the story a chance even though you didn't think you'd like it; glad you're enjoying it. **check-mate- **Hopefully the end of the Games didn't disappoint any; they didn't die at least. And I'm not sure how much kissing there'll be in the last few chapters of this, but tune in for the sequel and I'm sure more'll turn up. :-). **Guest- **Another review? I'm just kidding. Thanks so much for taking the time to comment (more than once). I'll try to make sure I update super quickly so you don't have to keep checking obsessively, but I am thrilled you like the story so much. **skat8ergirl- **I kind of think it's interesting that you like Cato/Katniss so much, since I originally wanted to do that pairing but decided on Marvel at the last second, just because after seeing Jack Quaid play him, I could hear his voice a million times more clearly. Thanks so much for the great review and all the nice compliments. Oh, and I _love _Sam Claflin as Finnick. His fight scenes in Snow White were perfect, and the whole 'protector' thing he did in Pirates of the Caribbean was classic Finnick, so I think he'll do great. The other actors are all good, too. Jenna Malone really looks like she could pull off the weak/innocent thing perfectly, which is perfect for Johanna. **lucie17-**Gosh, your reviews are getting so nice that I hardly know what to say. I'm super-glad you think that I'm keeping everyone in character, though. I really dislike OOC characters, so that you think I'm getting it good so far is good to know. If I ever do anything that's super OOC though, please don't be afraid to say anything. Again, thank so much for all your amazing compliments and super-long reviews. I always love reading what you have say. **I-piTy-Da-FoOl- **Hopefully this was soon enough. Thank for reviewing. **ask-the-careers- **Thanks for reviewing. **Someone2003- **I love how accurately you read where I try to keep Marvel and Katniss in your relationship. Right now it's pretty much perfect, and there was actually one part that I may or may not have wound up editing out that mentioned Marvel being okay with being just friends with Katniss because she was his friend more than anything. And I actually had the Hunger Games deluxe addition, but I hadn't gotten a chance to watch it. Me being the ridiculous Jack Quaid fan I am went to watch it as soon as you mentioned it, and I absolutely loved it. I kind of thought it was funny, how some of Jack Quaid's character bled into what I pictured Marvel as in my story- like how when he was acting out the bloodbath scene with total rage on his face and wound up tripping over his feet and laughing about it. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like the finale. **Guest- **Thanks for reviewing.


	21. A Host Of Sucker Punches

Katniss clings to me tightly when the hovercraft materializes above the arena. I have no idea if it's because she's scared or because she doesn't think I can walk by myself- which I can't, at all- but either way, all I can feel at the moment is her thin arms around my waist, her soft hair tickling my arm.

That's really all I focus on as I slip off into unconsciousness; Katniss's presence next to me, holding on like she never wants to let go.

Through blurry eyes, I see the hovercraft lower down in front of us. Two ladders drop, but when Katniss helps me to my feet and gets me onto mine, she steps on right beside me, completely ignoring the other one. An electric current freezes us into place, just like it did before the Games. I'm thankful. There's no way I'd be able to keep myself standing upright otherwise. Even with the current holding me up, I can feel every last bit of energy draining from my body. Hell, I can practically see it too, with my eyes frozen downward so that I have a perfect view of the bloody stream making its way from my leg to a scary red puddle on the ground.

I'm so entertained watching the blood fall- a side effect of the blood loss, I'm sure- that I don't notice when the current goes away. At least not until I collapse onto the floor. Fuzzy-brained and peeved that the medics let me fall like that, I try to get up and give them a piece of my mind.

My vision flashes black, and I land hard back on the ground.

"I think there's something wrong with my leg," I announce, frowning when I realize that I can't understand what I just said. I open my mouth to repeat myself, to let everyone know that I'm bleeding and they really should help me, but the feeling of hands on my shoulders stops me. They tug me in a direction I don't want to go, and I start thrashing and struggling, sure that they're going to take me someplace terrible.

Katniss screams something, but I can't figure out where my arms to reach out and help her. I try bucking once and clank my head against someone else's, but the hands don't let go and everything only gets darker and darker until it all fades away completely.

…

I wake up in a room with a glowing yellow light. There's a thick restraining band around my waist and an IV pumping some kind of dodgy fluid into my arm. My first reaction is to panic. Things have been worst-case scenario every day for the last three weeks, and I can't imagine things changing now.

Have the Games been altered? Am I in some kind of screwed-up torture chamber? And Cato? Is he going to find me? What about Thresh? Clove?

Another thought hits me, and I start struggling against my restraints.

Katniss.

Where in the hell is _Katniss_?

Then, slowly, memories start fighting their way to the front of my mind.

Katniss and I won the Hunger Games. I'm not in a torture chamber. I'm in the Training Center. Getting fixed up.

I flex my toes and relax when I can move both feet, when there isn't any pain in my left leg. Then my eyes go down to my right arm, which is perfectly straight and doesn't hurt at all. They must have re-broken the bone. Even my chest is perfect. There isn't a single mark on it. Not anywhere else, either. Even scars that I'd gotten from training are completely erased.

I don't like it. I mean, the arm was creepy and the scar on my chest was ugly as hell, but… taking those things away from me almost makes it feel like I'm supposed to forget that anything happened in the first place. Without the scars… I look like the same person I was when I went into the arena, and that bothers me more than it should.

The door to my room swings open, and I tense, my hands fighting their way towards my waist for Glimmer's sword or a knife or some sort of weapon, but I'm defenseless. I immediately start coming up with a different strategy, some way I can protect myself from this unseen threat.

Then the figure steps into my line of sight. An Avox. Carrying soup. Totally harmless.

I eat the soup in silence, my thoughts settling on Katniss after I calm down enough to quit jumping and tensing whenever the waiting Avox moves. I have to talk to her. That's obvious. About a lot of things. Well... and I just want to be in her presence. To make sure that she's okay.

I know that I have more important things to think about than a girl from District Twelve, but everything else is too confusing to work out while I'm still hopped up on drugs. I mean, I know we're in deep shit. That's a gut feeling that I'd have to be stupid to ignore. But I don't want to think about why. I also don't want to think about murder or dying, or whether or not I'm finally so crazy that I'm beginning to think I'm sane.

When I'm finally finished with my soup, the Avox presses a button and my IV pumps out a fresh wave of happy-drugs that knock me out in seconds.

This happens several more times. Each time, my head feels a tad bit clearer and I'm able to chew over a few new thoughts.

Like, 'What does my family think about all this?', or, 'I really am starting to fall for Katniss, aren't I?'. And then, to go along with the previous thought, 'Katniss is going to get back to District Twelve and wind up with Gale, isn't she?'.

And when I'm not worrying, I'm remembering. Remembering crap that I'd much rather forget. Dead bodies. Rue. Peeta. Thresh jumping backwards off the Cornucopia. All of it irrevocably seared into my brain.

After several of these angst-filled meals, I once again wake up to find myself not alone. I sit up, expecting an Avox to be waiting with my meal.

My heart stops when I realize that the figure in front of me isn't an Avox.

It's a president.

Immediately, I put on the face that I use at my father's business parties, shooting him my best, 'I'd rather be eating a live porcupine than having a friendly conversation with you, but I'm going to pretend to enjoy it anyway' smile. Snow does the exact same, and we stay like that for a few moments, sharing big, constipated grins.

Then, because I can't really stand the silence any longer, I cockily ask, "Here to congratulate me, Mister President?"

His smile somehow grows even less genuine.

"Oh, dear Marvel, I think both of us know that you aren't so foolish as to believe that," says Snow. "You very well understand why I am here."

I sigh dramatically and pretend that I'm feeling chastised when really I'm about ready to make a run for it. Maybe I'm a big fan of violence and working things out with my spears, but… being this close to Snow is pretty damn intimidating. Especially when I'm sitting in a hospital bed, and he's sneering down at me like I'm something sticky stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"Well, actually, I'm not exactly sure why you're here," I say carefully. "It isn't to tell me I'm royally screwed, and that you're going to murder my friends and family because I was a rebellious ass who couldn't figure out when to shut his big mouth…" I go for a smile. "Is it?"

Snow laughs, his breath stinking up the air all around me, tainting it with the disgusting, all too familiar smell of blood.

"Oh, no. I would never be so rash," says Snow kindly. I'd half mistake him for a happy old grandfather if he didn't smell like murder. "I need you to listen to me, and you would never do that if I took away all of my bargaining material."

_That _makes my smile falter.

"I really wanted to avoid this," Snow goes on. "I even had Seneca arrange a final battle between you and your 'friend' from District Eleven. See… that poor, filthy district was bursting at the seams after you helped the girl and that disgusting ox aided you in return, but I was certain that seeing its two champions tear each other apart would erase their talk of rebellion." Snow's eyes fix on me. "The failure of that plan has pushed me into something a bit more… drastic."

Me, being the genius I am, immediately blurt, "District Eleven is rebelling?"

Snow's eyes narrow and he says, "Not yet, and they never will if you have anything to do with it."

"But it's already started," I protest. "There's nothing I can do about it, no matter what you threaten to do to my family-"

"But there is," Snow cuts in. He smiles like a snake and leans closer to me, the smell of blood and roses growing to gag-inducing levels. "In fact, you are the _only _person who can stop it. It's why I left you alive."

"Huh?"

"I was quite tempted to reverse the rule change and allow you to bleed out, Marvel. But your life was too precious. A Career who all but admits to being brainwashed, who turns into a loving, good person, is dangerous. It gives the districts hope. It makes them believe that things can _change_."

"But what can I do about it now?" I ask through gritted teeth, sure that he's punishing me for something that's too late for me to fix.

Snow's smile grows. "Show Panem that you _didn't _change." His eyes shine with what looks like pure glee. "Act as if you're _thrilled _that you won the Games. Brag about your kills, about the fun of it. When asked about Rue, say that her death was sad but necessary. Be excited._ Cheer_." His mouth is in easy punching distance, and I have to clench my fists to keep myself from breaking his jaw. "Act like you did before the Games."

I think of Thresh. 'Take care of his family', he'd said. Rue told me that Katniss and I were more than tributes, that we could do so much. Peeta, who never, ever should have been forced to die, was willing to give his life so that Katniss could survive to see something better. Then there were all those other tributes whose lives were thrown away for nothing more than cheap entertainment.

All at once, I realize that if rebelling is going to stop the Games, then I'm all for it. I don't want to stop it. I want to help it. Crazy or not crazy, it's painfully obvious that it's the right thing to do.

I _can't _waste all those lives. Even if it means turning away from everything I used to believe in.

Carefully, I ask, "And if I don't want to stop it? You can't kill me. I'm too popular-"

"Your parents?" asks Snow. I don't budge. They can die for all I care. Two lives for hundreds? Snow sees this and adds, "Your sister?" My resolve weakens. "Or would your lover's family work better? Little Primrose Everdeen is such a frail creature… it would surprise no one if she were to mysteriously fall ill… and Katniss's annoying male friend turns eighteen in three weeks. In District Twelve, that means it is time for him to begin working in the terribly _dangerous _mines..."

I freeze up.

Katniss's family.

He just threatened Katniss's family, and even if I'd be willing to maybe let him kill my parents, even if he'd somehow pass over Breeze or I could convince myself to let her go, I know that Katniss is a million times closer to Gale and her sister than I am to anyone in District One.

I can't say no. Whether the rebellion would end the Games or not. Katniss wouldn't be willing to make the sacrifice, and there's no way she'd ever forgive me if I took the choice out of her hands.

Barely hesitating, I exhale sharply and say, "Fine." My eyes close. "I'll do everything I can to stop the damn rebellion."

…

Snow leaves with a smug smile on his face, and I'm given leave to get dressed. Gloss and Tilly are supposedly waiting for me. Well, and Ventidius, but I'm really not looking forward to seeing him. I already know that the idiot is going to say something about all the weight I've lost, how pale I've gotten, or my unruly appearance in the arena, and right now I'm half worried that I'll kill him for it.

It isn't that I've turned super-rebel overnight. I'm not that mad about not being able to be the poster child of a rebellion that, most realistically, would be doomed to fail. So maybe I'm a little annoyed that I won't be able to go against the Games. Maybe the thought of pissing off the people in Eleven and Twelve after all they've done for me grates a bit.

But what _infuriates _me as much as it scares me is that I have no idea what Katniss is going to think about my sudden change in behavior.

Oh, I could tell her about Snow's threat, obviously, but I know in my gut that it's not a good idea. Katniss _can't _lie. She'd do or say something stupid and get everyone in more trouble than they already are, and, well… it would also kill her, knowing that her family is getting targeted because of what _we _did. Because of something that might have been able to be prevented.

She doesn't need to worry about that. Not with everything else she has on her plate right now.

I glance at myself in the mirror. I had to change back into the outfit I wore in the arena, but it doesn't look right. The shirt is too big, hanging loosely off my shoulders and making me look way too thin. My cheekbones are sharper than they should be, and my skin is deathly pale. Even the expression on my face is darker than I thought possible. My lips are pressed into a grim line, and there's this terrifyingly haunting look in my eyes that scares even me.

That won't do. The reunion with my team is going to be filmed, and I can't come out of here looking like a vengeful zombie. I take a deep breath and smile disarmingly, even getting my eyes to flash with a little good-humor. After that, I take a few seconds to walk around the room, trying to force myself into sauntering like I used to. During my time in the arena, I'd developed a strange, slinking gait that looks really creepy. Even with practice, I can't quite get rid of it.

When I know I'm not going to get any more ready for this than I already am, I take deep breath and leave the room. I step into a long hallway that's lined with other doors and tentatively look at each one, wondering if Katniss is behind one of them.

The sound of voices tears my attention away from the doors, and I find myself moving just a little bit more quickly. The second that I round the first corner, Tilly stops in the middle of chirping something about hair extensions, and Gloss and Ventidius both jerk their heads in my direction. There's an awkward pause where nobody knows what to say, but then I boom out an old-Marvel laugh and crack a joke about never eating fresh game again.

That seems to get everyone to calm down. Ventidius gives me a quick congratulations before he starts blabbering about all of the weight I've lost- surprise, surprise- and Tilly actually jumps off the ground and wrestles me into an enormous hug. I don't expect it at all, but I make myself smile and even twirl her around like I'm as thrilled to see her as she is to see me.

Gloss is last, and it's obvious that his 'We're all in deep shit' radar is a lot better than Tilly or Venny's. His gray eyes are hard when he gives me a quick one-armed man hug, and even harder as he doles out an overenthusiastic congratulations.

After a second passes where Gloss and I don't do anything but stare at each other, Ventidius announces that he needs to take me away and make me pretty again. Gloss glares at him hard, but lets him, and me, go.

"I was thinking red highlights," Ventidius says immediately. "To go with the ensemble that Katniss will be wearing."

"You want to dye my hair_ red_?" I ask.

"Only parts of it." He sees my expression and rushes forward, "And it won't be permanent."

I stare at him, realize that resistance is futile, and relegate myself to the fact that this is going to be a long ass day.

…

About two hours is spent re-beautifying me in the most cruel and unusual ways possible. Then, as if things can't get any worse, Ventidius pulls me away from my prep team and proceeds to force me into a suit. A sparkling suit. With glitter encrusted into every inch of it. The pants and the jacket both sparkle a gaudy gold in the light, while the vest and tie shimmer ruby red.

Oh, and those highlights he was talking about? They aren't just red. They have _glitter _in them.

"I look ridiculous," I inform him.

"I think you look stunning," says Ventidius. He grabs my hand and begins loading my fingers down with an assortment of garish rings. "Like a true victor. Except for the weight loss. You really should have eaten more…"

Someone knocks on the door, thankfully cutting him off before I succumb to the urge to take off one of my hard leather shoes and bludgeon him to death with it. I immediately call, "Come in." Ventidius gives me a pissy look, but I ignore him in favor of seeing who our visitor is.

I furrow my brow when Gloss's sister walks into the room. Hell, Cashmere even smiles when she sees me. I'd kind of assumed that she wasn't too happy with me because I let Glimmer die and she was Glimmer's mentor and everything, but the expression on her face is more genuinely happy than the one Gloss had worn.

I stare in growing disbelief as the former victor hurries over to me and gives me a big hug. She then pulls back, straightens my suit, and shakes her head at me.

"I'm so proud of you, Marvel," she says.

"Er… Thanks?"

She ignores my awkward reply and looks to Ventidius. "Are you finished with him? I want to walk him down to the Training Room so we can have a quick talk before he's due up on stage."

"Of course, of course," Ventidius says too quickly, giving me the impression that he either has the hots for her, or more likely- since I'm kind of assuming the guy isn't a hundred percent straight- that she scares him shitless. "I just finished."

Cashmere smiles and politely thanks him, then grabs onto my arm and pulls me out of the room.

"So... What brought on this sudden desire to spend time with me?" I ask, feeling a wee bit uncomfortable by the way that Cashmere's long nails are digging into my skin. I would have been flirting with her like crazy a month ago- she's more attractive than Glimmer, easily- but now all I can think about is that she's too tall, colored too fairly, and that her smile is just a little too blindingly bright.

In other words, she isn't Katniss.

"Well, actually, I was speaking with Katniss's stylist just now," Cashmere says, "and he gave me this." She holds up a silver chain with a white-gold disk hanging from it. "The Capitol likes the idea of you two as a couple so much that Cinna thinks it would be a good idea for you to wear the symbol that was on her token."

"Sounds like a smart enough plan to me," I say casually, figuring I shouldn't tell her that the idea of Katniss and me being a couple is quickly going to become such a ridiculous impossibility that even the idiots in the Capitol will know there's no chance for it.

"Cinna is good at making points with his designs," agrees Cashmere. I nod uninterestedly and take the necklace from her hands. Looking at it more closely, I notice that there's a mockingjay emblazoned on the disk. The entire shape of the bird is encrusted with diamonds, I assume to make it stand out more. It's pretty much Katniss's pin turned District One. "Shit… this is actually really nice."

"I bet half the men in the Capitol will be wearing one by the end of the week," she says, smiling really strangely, almost like she thinks the idea is funny. I tilt my head in confusion, but Cashmere doesn't seem to notice, instead shifting topics to Cinna's other designs and continuing to blabber about them all the way up until she drops me off in front of the Training Room.

When she turns to leave, it's without another word.

I'm rather confused about why she bothered walking me down in the first place- I mean, couldn't Gloss have just given me the necklace?- but I don't dwell on it. I have bigger things to worry about.

As soon as I step into the Training Room, someone finds me and directs me to a platform that'll take me straight up on stage. My stomach starts doing annoying flips as I begin thinking about what I'm going to have to do. This all feels like it's happening too soon. Like I fell asleep and woke up right in the middle of a ring of fire that's getting hotter by the second.

The anthem booms in my ears, and I swallow hard. Almost time. Great. I haven't even come to terms with the fact that I have real, honest-to-god feelings for Katniss, and now here I am, ready to ruin any chance there is of me ever having a relationship with her.

I want to leave. Now. I don't want Katniss to hate me. I don't want to do this.

Why do I have to do this?

The prep teams get introduced. Then Ventidius and Katniss's stylist. I can almost see Venny dancing across the stage, showing off whatever ugly as hell outfit he put on for the occasion. His chest is no doubt puffed out, and I bet that the ego boost he gets from this isn't going to fade until the Games come around again next year.

Gloss and Haymitch go next. They earn the loudest reception yet. The stomping and clapping seem to go on forever. I'm guessing that the more uncivilized cheers are coming as a result of Haymitch's presence, because I really can't ever remember anyone from District One inducing _yodels _from the crowd.

And then the cheering stops and Caesar Flickerman elaborately asks, "And nooow… are you ready for the victors of the Seventy-Fourth**_ Hunger Gaaaames_**?"

The crowd goes wild. My heart stops completely.

I'm going to see Katniss again in just a few seconds.

She's going to think I'm an asshole.

The plate under my feet starts moving, and I take a deep breath. Calm. I have to pretend I want to be here. That I'm having a good time. No one can know I'm lying.

Bright lights reach my eyes, and then there's a deafening roar that almost knocks me off my feet. I take a second to get my footing, then strut off my platform and onto the stage, smiling as big as I can because I'm supposed to.

Then my eyes land on Katniss, and suddenly I'm not faking the smile anymore.

She's beautiful. Not that she wasn't before, but now she's clean and healthy. She's even gained a little weight, and her smile is beyond perfect, just like it was in the arena.

It almost looks like she's genuinely glad to see me.

My heart stutters as I take two big steps forward. Once I'm close enough, I pick Katniss up and wrap her into an enormous hug. I want to kiss her so badly, but I know that'll be pushing things too far, so instead I just hold her close and pretend that I'm never going to have to let her go.

Unfortunately, while I'm amazing at lying to others, I've never been so hot at tricking myself. I know that I'm going to have to get this over with sooner or later, so I reluctantly put Katniss down and swallow hard, shaking my head because _damn_, she's stunning. Even wearing a dress that doesn't quite suit her- it's flimsy and yellow and makes her look about five- and in heels and an elaborate hairband and just not looking like the Katniss I'm used to, she's so amazingly beautiful that it hurts.

"How's your leg?" Katniss asks softly, leaning into my side while I lead her over to the loveseat that they've set out for us in place of the chair the victors usually sit in.

"Good as new," I say lightly, smiling as I plop down into my seat. Katniss sits down next to me, just close enough that our arms are touching. I half wish that she would've started out farther away; I don't want to have to feel her physically recoil as the evening wears on.

With that image in my head, the one of Katniss moving away from me, I lightly kiss her forehead and bury my face in her hair, just for a second, because of the driving worry that I'm never going to get to do it again.

Caesar cracks a few jokes while we're getting settled, and then the lights dim and it's time for the replays to start.

_She'll hate me worse if I kill her family, _I remind myself, glancing at Katniss one more time.

Then I force my attention away from her and over to the screen.

When they show District Two's Reaping, I snort after Cato volunteers, shaking my head like I think it's ridiculous that he thought he had a chance of winning in the first place. Katniss's eyes fly to me, but she keeps her mouth shut. When the chariot rides come up, I shake my head and say, "God, I love myself," after they replay that joke I cracked about Katniss. Cato's ten in training is met with an, "I can't believe that douche got such a high score."

The interviews are snorted through and laughed at. When the Games finally begin, I allow myself a second of horror over how much genuine _fun _I was having in the bloodbath. Then I start the cheering. I pump my fist when they show my first kill, even as I worry over what his family is thinking of me right second kill gets a low whistle. By the third one, the crowd is getting as into it as I am, so I make a 'raise the roof' gesture and earn myself a wave of disgustingly misled screaming.

Katniss's presence isn't anywhere near my arm, not anymore. I'm not sure how she's taking this or how far she's moved away from me, but I can't bring myself to look in her direction to find out.

When the tracker jackers burst from their nest, I roar with laughter even as my hands start shaking so badly that I have to clench them into fists.

Thankfully, everything that happened between Rue and me is pretty much cut out. There's a second of the two of us joking about my kiss with Katniss, but even that fades away before I can dwell on it for too long.

After that, the cameras go straight to Katniss destroying the supplies. I pretend to get excited again, going so far as to count down the seconds up until the explosion. When I reach zero, I laugh and shout, "Boom!" just as the mines start going off.

Rue's death is the next scene they show, but it's edited out for the most part. The focus is definitely on me mutilating the chick from four, and I go along with the whole thing, mimicking the odd expression on the girl's face when she dies, then beating my chest and hooting when they flash ahead to show me standing over her body and stabbing her over and over and over again.

Rue's body doesn't get a full second on screen, and the song Katniss sang is completely cut out.

Everything after that flashes by even more quickly. They take out every little bit of my friendship with Peeta. Well, unless a short clip that involves me telling Katniss how much I want to kill him counts. Then they skip all the way up to Peeta's death, only stopping for other unrelated killings in between. When Peeta's out of the picture, I do get a little more time with Katniss, but our deepest conversations are left out.

In other words, not only do I have to make myself out to be a heartless asshole, but the freaking highlight video gets to do the exact same thing.

Then comes the worst part. The Feast.

They play Clove's whole speech about me faking my relationship with Katniss. Like they want all of Panem to hear it. My jaw involuntarily clenches, and I can feel Katniss stiffen beside me. They skimmed over all the parts where I put myself at risk to save her life, and now they're making a huge deal out of the possibility that I played Katniss from the start. Even when Clove is finished speaking and Thresh kills her, they leave out the entire argument I had with him.

It gives off the impression that he just let us go. That I never put myself in any danger at all.

The rest of the Games come up quickly. I howl with the mutts when Cato dies, making sure to keep my eyes just to the right of the screen, so that I don't have to see him get torn apart. And then the last battle is shown almost in full. At least right up until the end, when the picture blacks out a second after Katniss has her arrow pointed at Thresh's face.

The last scene they show is me sitting on the Cornucopia with blood all over my hands. The symbolism behind the image is so obvious that I almost actually want to laugh. Even if it's mostly my own blood, the message is disgustingly clear, and I'm sure that everyone is going to pick up on it.

After a second, the screen goes black and the anthem starts blaring again. The lights flash back on and we're both instructed to stand. I grin excitedly and practically jump to my feet right as Snow mounts the stage, a little girl trailing behind him and carrying a single crown.

Snow's expression looks a tad bit suspicious when he twists the crown in half and sets one side of it on Katniss's head, but it's nothing compared to the look he gives me when he places mine on my head.

Although, I must admit that part of the nasty, 'I want you dead glare' is probably a result of the fact that I blatantly defy him. As soon as he approaches me, it becomes obviously clear that he's going to need to stretch pretty tall to get the crown on my head. The thing is though, I'm not in the mood to bow down to him. So I stand there, smiling huge like I just won the world, and rock back and forth on my heels while Snow waits for me to stoop down and I 'obliviously' wait for him to reach up.

Finally, the silence has stretched on a second too long, and Snow frowns and grabs the crown off the cushion. Then he has to get up on his tiptoes in a very undignified manner to settle the thing on my head properly.

The look he shoots me could kill babies, and entirely out of self-preservation, I immediately say, "Thank you so much, Mister President. I've been waiting for this my entire life." I smile saccharinely and add, "I'd compete in a thousand more Games to have this great honor bestowed upon me and my district again."

Snow looks a little less pissed off as he turns away, and I find myself half relieved and half delirious with the desire to chase after him and break his neck.

Once Snow is off stage, Caesar Flickerman says, "Now, let's have one more round of applause for the victors of this year's Hunger Games!"

The audience goes crazy, and I drift from my spot and begin strutting across the stage. "Come on, Panem! Tell me that you love me!" I shout as loudly as I can, stomping my feet and gesturing for more noise. This goes on for an inordinately long time, all the way up until Caesar drags me out of the way so that he can bid the audience a good night and remind them that they have to tune in for the final interview tomorrow morning.

Everything goes strangely quiet, even with the crowd still chatting and cheering, and I find myself unable to put up with this stupid act anymore. I look around frantically before bolting backstage, terrified of having to so much as look at Katniss. Hell, terrified of having to look at _anyone. _For one of the first times in my life, I just want to be alone.

I'm in such a hurry that I run smack into a brick wall as I whirl around the corner.

Except it's not a brick wall. When I stumble back, trying to hide the panic in my expression, I find myself looking down at a very pissed off Haymitch Abernathy. My mask comes back up again.

"Gosh, that was a fun time, wasn't it?" I ask with a laugh.

He immediately socks me in the mouth.

I stagger backwards, swearing my head off because _damn _that hurt. When I bring my fingers up to my lip, they come away red.

"_What _was that?" Haymitch demands. I blink at him, not sure what to say. "You had things figured out. What in the hell happened that brought _this _on again?"

I swallow and mess with my mockingjay necklace, not looking him in the eye. I can feel blood welling up in my mouth, but I don't really want to spit it at his feet. He'll probably get pissed and punch me again. Although I suppose I'd need to take about a million more punches to make up for everything I just did.

"Did they pay you? Threaten you?" Haymitch presses. He backs me into a wall and I shrink a little, torn between letting him chew me out, running away, or fighting back. "Or have you actually convinced yourself that you _were_ going crazy?" He shakes his head. "Fuck. It hardly matters. That girl is like a daughter to me, and you just betrayed every ounce of trust that she ever gave you-"

I close my eyes, waiting for him to keep handing it to me, but Haymitch cuts himself off. Carefully, I look at him, then swallow hard when I see that he hasn't backed off at all. He's just giving me a chance to speak.

"I didn't mean for it to go this far," I say quickly. "Come on! She had to have known I was just playing her for sponsors-"

"Maybe you were at first," growls Haymitch, "but if that's the reason you took on Cato single-handedly, you're dumber than I thought. You have two seconds to tell me what in the hell happened to the kid who loved Katniss enough to be willing to _die _for her, or I'm going to bring her over here and see what happens when I let _her _loose on you."

"I-" I see Gloss appear from behind a doorway and immediately call out, "Gloss! Help!"

Haymitch lets out a low growl as my mentor hurries over and pulls the older victor off of me with force that I wasn't willing- and probably wasn't able- to use. I take several steps back as Gloss starts tearing into Haymitch about keeping his grubby hands off me and never messing with me again, then flee altogether when both of them start shouting.

A Peacekeeper finds me when I'm still in the act of running away, and, oblivious to my obviously shaky state of mind, informs that I'm to be taken to the President's mansion. Some other guy appears to drive me there, and then, once I'm inside, another guy escorts me to a place of honor at the foot of an enormous table.

Katniss is already there. Looking everywhere except at me. Although I suppose that she also avoids locking eyes with Gloss when he walks in. I hardly blame her for that, though. I don't know what he talked about with Haymitch, but Gloss spends the entire meal glaring daggers back and forth between Katniss and her mentor.

Thankfully for everyone, the meal doesn't last very long. Unfortunately for everyone- or at least for us- Katniss and I are whisked off to take pictures and talk to Capitol celebrities as soon as we're finished eating. This leads to us spending most of the evening side-by-side, although Katniss does try inordinately hard to ignore me. I can physically feel her drifting farther and farther away from me with every joke I make at another tribute's expense, with every death I excitedly rehash with a sponsor who just _has _to talk with me.

It makes me sick. I think I even start looking a little green around the gills, because when I find Gloss and tell him I'm ready to call it a night, he immediately leaves to find Snow and tell him we're leaving.

Before I head out, I send a glance back in Katniss's direction. She's still being monopolized by some wealthy Capitol woman, and I wave halfheartedly. She pretends not to see.

Pathetically, I stare at her for a few seconds too long, mentally begging her to acknowledge me, before I realize that it's useless. Feeling like a kicked puppy, I tear my eyes away and rush out of the building, in just as desperate a hurry to get away as I was at the end of the Games, when I was sprinting from the mutts.

"Marvel?"

I look up to see that Gloss has appeared beside me. Smiling weakly, I ask, "Yeah?"

"Your district is proud of you, kid. Real proud."

Then he claps me on the back and starts going over the different ways I could've handled my only actual fight with Cato.

I tune him out and look at my feet, the icy feeling in my gut very clearly telling me that having District One proud of me is absolutely nothing to be happy about.

**A/N- **

**Sorry! This was later than I wanted, but I had trouble making this chapter feel right, just because it was so weird having Marvel have to go back to what he used to be while entirely realizing what he's doing. Then there were a million characters I haven't written in a long time or ever, and quite a bit of stuff I had to get across, so I hope I did it well enough. **

**NEW NOTE: REVIEW REPLIES ARE FINALLY UP!**

**~bballgirl32~**

**Here are a few replies (I only did the ones that commented on specifics, or that were long enough to have taken a significant amount of time). Sorry they're late- **

**Thanks to- mh21- **Perfect prediction pretty much, like you probably figured out during this chapter. Thanks so much for taking the time to review. **Olive Monster- **I just had to comment because your review was so nice. I'm glad you think my chapters are interesting, and I'll try to keep the length up on all of them too. **Cassie- **Don't worry about the sequel taking very long to get up. I'm already excited enough about it that I've actually already written out certain scenes and everything, so I'm pretty sure it'll come up a week after the last chapter is finished, just like a normal update**. check-mate- **Hope this chapter answered a few questions, although you did guess pretty much all of it by yourself. Glad you found the chapter exciting, though, and thanks so much for the review.** Even. The. Stars. Refuse. To. Shine.-** I guess this chapter kind of explained a little bit of why Snow let them both win relatively easily. Oh, and I'm glad to hear you think everyone's in character. I've always intended to give Thresh a bigger part in this, but I also kind of dislike trying to because he was in the books so little that his character is hard to place. So thanks for telling me that I at least got it okay enough that it wasn't distracting.** sk8tergirl- **Well, at least Snow isn't drugging Marvel yet (although I do suppose that what he is doing isn't much better). Thank you for the great review. I'm glad you found the ending original and well-planned; I kind of wanted to do something different, and I also needed something that would start the rebellion more than the berries because I couldn't have Marvel be able to completely kill it single-handedly. **Guest- **I can't really answer your question about whether or not they'll be separated later on right now, but I can tell you that it'll be answered within the first two chapters of the sequel, if you'd like to stop by and check it out. Thanks for the review. **lambtastic**- Get out they did, although you can probably tell that them presenting a united front isn't going to be happening for a while (if at all). I like your observation that the break between Peeta and Katniss changed their relationship forever. I hadn't thought about that before, but it really did, and now that I think about it, I have a feeling that Marvel and Katniss's is going to be rather different as well. **Someone2003- **I absolutely love how you paralleled the quote about Peeta not wanting to forget with the title. I hadn't even though about that, but it does kind of fit. Also, your reaction to my choice of final fight was kind of what I was going for. I'd been getting a lot of reviews saying they couldn't wait to see what happened between Cato and Marvel, so I knew leaving them without a huge fight would be disappointing, but I was also going for a huge impact, which it's nice to see I managed to do. Oh, and your guess on the suit was super-close. Gold, yellow... they're practically the same. Anyway, thank you for the amazing review (again).

**All right. All finished. Idk how many people will actually read these now, since my next chapter isn't even a full day from being posted, but thank you all again for the great reviews. **


	22. The Courage to Continue

I'm watching a Capitol reality TV show when Ventidius and my prep team arrive the next morning. I started looking for something stupid and brainless to take up my attention after I realized I wasn't going to get to sleep last night, and a day-long marathon of _My Juliet _certainly fit the bill. So far, I've seen two dozen girls make total idiots of themselves while trying to earn some random man's 'true love'.

I'd think it was funny if I wasn't in such a shit mood.

"Ooh, I _love _this show," Venny coos the _second _he sees what I'm watching.

Of course he does.

"I can style myself and you can sit here and watch… I mean, if you want," I volunteer dryly.

Ventidius looks at me with an expression of absolute horror. "But you've no idea how to dress yourself." He takes in my disheveled appearance and shakes his head. "No… it would not do... Although maybe I _could _catch an episode while you are getting ready…" He looks back towards Aemilia, who's peering at her reflection in one of the windows. "Please, Darling, would you get this boy out of these disgusting clothes and give him a proper cleaning? I have… things to attend to."

Ventidius plops down on the couch, and I'm whisked off to be violated for what is thankfully the last time. Every member of my prep team has something to say about the stupid recaps last night, but I really don't bother listening to any of them. Not until Aemilia chirps, "So, Marvel? _Did _you just use that Everdeen girl, or do you love her? Oh… I'm _so torn _on that. To think that you could have tricked all of us… but she is just from District Twelve, and _so _plain. I almost hope that you'd have better taste than to fall for a girl like her. Cashmere is quite single, see, and I think you'd make quite the wonderful couple-"

"Gloss would kill me if I tried going out with his sister," is all I say. Even though Snow never mentioned my relationship with Katniss during our little chat, I doubt that he wants us to be portrayed as 'together'. Not when it symbolizes unity between District One and District Twelve. Even the recap strongly hinted that Snow would rather stifle the rebellion than play up a love story that's only purpose would be to please the Capitol.

Honestly, Snow would probably be happiest if I straight up told my prep team that I lied about everything. I know this. I just can't bring myself to do it.

"Oh, but that would just make it star-crossed love!" says Viola. And with that, I am regaled with tales of how much more legitimate my love with Cashmere would be than any 'silly' crush I could possibly have on Katniss. It hardly matters that she's seven years older than me and could practically be considered a cougar for snatching up innocent little Marvel. All they care about is that I didn't deny tricking Katniss, which apparently means that I'm all but open for a new, more exciting romantic interest.

For the first time in my life, I'm glad to see Ventidius when he enters the room and shoos my prep team away. Of course, the gratefulness fades away rather quickly when I'm shoved into a hot pink suit with a silver vest, but I still appreciate his dissection of _My Juliet _a million times more than my prep team's petitioning for me to start up a new romance with Cashmere.

I wonder if everyone in the Capitol thinks that love is something a person has complete control over, or if all the Capitol morons I've met so far are just a special kind of stupid.

When I'm completely dressed, Ventidius replaces the necklace that Cinna gave me last night, shooting it a disgusted look as he does so, as if he hates giving me something he didn't design. Then he looks me over one more time before nodding in approval.

"Very, very nice," he says lightly. I get a quick pat on the head, and then I'm sent on my merry little way.

The interview takes place right down the hall, back in the sitting room I'd just vacated a handful of hours ago. Now, the sofa I'd been sitting on is replaced with two separate chairs, both of them surrounded by vases of colorful flowers, and the television I was watching has disappeared. There are a few cameramen milling around to record the interview, but no Katniss in sight.

I take a few minutes to chat with some camera people, but just as I'm turning to have a word with Caesar, a door opens and Katniss steps into the room. She's wearing a gauzy white dress with pink shoes, her hair straightened and falling down her back in a silky curtain. My heart reflexively soars at her presence, only to come crashing to earth when I remind myself that she currently hates me.

"Ah, Katniss!" one of the cameramen says happily. "We were just waiting on you. Now, if the two of you would take your places…"

I'm ushered over to one of the seats, and Katniss is seated beside me. Someone counts backward, and then the cameras are running and our every movement is suddenly on live television.

Caesar does his typically peppy introduction, and then he turns to us.

"I realize that we have much to talk about, but I do have one question that I'm sure everyone wants to know the answer to. Ever since Miss Clove's dramatic speech during the Feast, countless viewers throughout Panem have begun to question your relationship." Caesar looks straight at me. "I am sure that Katniss is wondering the same thing, but Marvel… what is your honest opinion of the Girl on Fire?"

I have to fight off the urge to narrow my eyes at the blue-haired bastard. Seriously? Two minutes into the interview, and he's already throwing me to the dogs.

I laugh with purposeful unease.

"Wow, Caesar," I say, fidgeting slightly. "That was rather… tactless. Well…" I run a hand through my hair and look at Katniss. "Damn, this is uncomfortable."

"Come Marvel, it was your life you were fighting for," says Caesar. "We won't think less of you."

"Then…" I take a deep breath. I don't even have to pretend that I don't know what to say because I really have no idea. Snow could've been more specific about this. "I suppose… I should say… wow… I don't… I guess I can say for sure that... I was lying, back when I said I loved Katniss in that interview." I bite my lip and look right at the camera. "I was jealous of the attention she was getting, and I wanted to steal some of it back."

"And Katniss?" asks Caesar gently. "What do you think of this?"

"Haymitch told me that he'd sober up for a year if Marvel wasn't lying," says Katniss, her voice light and airy. Fake. I know her well enough to hear exactly how fake it is. She's hurt, and it's all my fault. Dammit, dammit, _dammit!_ "I suppose it's safe to say that I'm not exactly surprised."

That gets a laugh from several people in the room, but I'm still not able to look at Katniss.

"But Marvel," says Caesar, "it appeared to me that things began to change when you were in the arena. There were several times that you seemed to put Katniss's safety ahead of your own. Did you… eventually start to develop feelings for her?"

I look at my hands.

"Katniss is… beautiful, stunning, caring… one of the best people I have ever met..." My voice starts to become too tender and I shake my head, forcing the gruffness back into it. "But there wasn't a single time that I put myself in a situation I wasn't confident I could survive. I would have killed Katniss myself if it meant winning the Hunger Games… I mean, I do have a soft spot for her, and maybe I see her as a friend, but… I don't have _any_ feelings for Katniss Everdeen."

Katniss takes too long to speak, and I glance in her direction to see her eyes fixed on me, shining with _hurt _for the first time I can remember. I mentally beg her not to believe me, to trust me, but she doesn't, and I'm forced to look away before I start pleading for her forgiveness on live television.

"Are you okay with this, Katniss?" Caesar questions, his voice quiet and caring.

"I suppose that it's fortunate I never came all that close to falling for him," says Katniss, her words like a punch in the gut. "I feel… betrayed, I suppose, but…" I can feel her eyes on me, can tell when she starts addressing me instead of Caesar. "I understand that you did what you had to do in order to survive, and… at least now I don't have to feel guilty for not loving you back."

"Whew." I force a force a smile and dramatically drag the back of my hand across my forehead, pretending that her words didn't hit me right where it hurts. "That sure helps with the guilt… although I _do_ have to feel bad for lying to all the wonderful people of Panem." I look at Caesar. "Do you think my fans will ever forgive me?"

He smiles charismatically.

"Oh, I'm sure of it," he says. "As Katniss said, you were only trying to survive. Now, I think we've cleared that awkward subject out of the way." He booms out a laugh and continues, "We best move on so that we can cover everything we need to. Marvel, your rivalry with Cato was quite interesting. What can you tell us about that…?"

The rest of the interview goes on in a similar fashion, all the way up until a cameraman signals that it's gone on long enough and Caesar signs off. I relax back into my chair and let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, was it Marvel?" asks Caesar jokingly.

"Are you kidding?" I look at Katniss and choke out a laugh. "I was worried about getting an arrow through the throat when I admitted to that ruse."

Katniss smiles softly and says, "Come on, Marvel. I was willing to drop a tracker jacker next on your head. I say that now we're finally even."

We share a smile that neither of us mean, and then Tilly takes note of the time and starts badgering me to start packing up. The train leaves in less than an hour, she says, and it would be a terrible faux pas to make the conductor wait. I get to my feet and shake Caesar's hand. Then I throw a casual greeting over my shoulder to Katniss and head off to my room.

It isn't until I'm away from everyone else that I realize I have nothing to pack. It feels wrong to leave with nothing, but I didn't bring anything, and there isn't anything I can imagine wanting to take back home. Not except the necklace that Cashmere gave me, and, well... I don't deserve to wear Katniss's symbol. Hell, _she _can't possibly want me to wear it either.

It's probably best that I leave it behind.

As soon as I come to this conclusion, I take off the necklace and stare at it for several moments, studying it carefully. It really is a nice necklace, and it really would be a waste to just ditch it in my room. I bet that Katniss's stylist is hanging around her floor, waiting for final good-byes. Maybe if I sneak up there and return it to him, or…

A little seam along the edge of the disk catches my attention, and I lift the necklace up closer to my face, brow furrowing. A closer examination confirms my suspicions, and after a moment of searching, I find a tiny catch on the side of the disk. The face pops open, and a piece of paper falls onto the floor.

Surprised, I slowly bend over and pick it up. A single sentence is neatly written across the tiny slip.

_ "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts." _

I blink several times before the meaning of the sentence sinks in, and my jaw drops with shock. Cashmere said that Cinna wanted me to have this. Katniss's stylist. Who apparently doesn't hate me and… and what? And is encouraging me to keep rebelling? But why? Unless it's Cashmere who wrote this, but… no, I know what girl handwriting looks like and this is too harsh, too blocky…

But Cinna? What does he know?

I swallow and look at the piece of paper again.

_ "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts." _

Something sinks in for the first time since my chat with Snow. Enough people are willing to rebel that Snow is nervous, and maybe what I'm doing isn't the best thing for the rebellion, but… if they really care about it, my actions aren't going to make all that much of a difference. Thresh's backflip off the Cornucopia won't be to be forgotten, and… and Katniss's song to Rue can't just be ignored. Even what I did... me killing Rue, risking my life for Katniss... those things aren't going to be written off by the people who _really _care.

In all likelihood, the rebels aren't going to stop because of me, and maybe I don't see myself as a rebel, but… but I also don't want to live the rest of my life as Snow's bitch any more than they do. So... so if they aren't going to give up because of Snow's actions, because of _my _actions, then... then why should I?

With something between a smirk and a smile on my face, I dig through several drawers until I find a pen and a piece of paper. Then I tear off a corner, and, in my neatest handwriting, write, _"I love you. Please trust me." _

I then fold the paper into a square, stick it in the locket, and shut close the disk.

When I step back out into the sitting room, Tilly impatiently asks, "Are you ready to go?"

I blow past her without a response, tearing open the elevator door and jamming the circle with the 12 on it, praying that Katniss hasn't left yet. Cinna isn't going to get that necklace now. Katniss is. She needs… some part of me. I refuse to drag her into this, to tell her anything about what I have to do, but… but I'm just selfish enough that I want to give her something that'll keep her from forgetting me completely, something that'll make _me _feel just a tiny bit better about what I'm doing to her.

The elevator comes to a stop at the twelfth floor, and I jump out as soon as the doors slide open. Katniss is right in front of me, impatiently pressing the button over and over again. We both flinch backwards with surprise when we see each other.

"Marvel-" Katniss starts, her expression cold and stony. I hear Haymitch curse from somewhere in the corner of the room, can feel him coming closer to me, but I ignore him and face Katniss.

"Cinna made this for me… before everything, and I figured that you probably don't want me wearing it anymore, so I'm giving it back to you." Before Katniss can protest, I slip the long chain of my necklace over her head. She starts to say something, but I cut her off with a hug that she immediately tries to struggle out of. Holding her tight, I let my lips find her ear so that I can whisper, "It's a locket," before my grip loosens, and I take a step back.

"I'll see you in six months, Fire Girl," I say lightly. "Bye, Haymitch!"

Then I wave a deceivingly jaunty goodbye and hurry back into the elevator just as Haymitch rushes into punching distance.

Tilly is waiting for me when I return to the first floor. Even Ventidius has arrived to say a last-minute goodbye. I give him a careless hug before several Peacekeepers come and lead Gloss, Cashmere, Tilly, and me to a dark limousine with tinted windows. I keep my eyes down as we drive to the train station, leaving the towering buildings and colorful people of the Capitol behind us.

There are two tribute trains waiting once we get to the station; one that I'm assuming will take Katniss to her district, and another that will drive a shorter, separate route to District One. My team and I are all shuffled into the District One train, and, with an unexpected lack of remarkableness, the engine starts up and the Capitol soon fades away in the distance, as if it's nothing more than a bad dream that can be woken up from.

As the train speeds off towards District One, I lock myself in my room and force the old Marvel to make a complete reappearance. The sweatpants and t-shirt i changed into after my interview are ditched for a crisp white suit and tie. My hair is combed until it sits perfectly on top of my head, and I even dig around until I find a handful of expensive-ass rings to wear.

When I look in the mirror, faking a smirk and tossing my shoulders back like I rule the world, I find myself staring at a reflection nearly identical to the one I would have seen barely a month ago. There are dark circles under my eyes, and I really do need to put on weight, but… all of the important changes are invisible. The physical scars that could give some little hint as to what I've gone through have been erased, and now all that's left are the mental ones; ugly and disfiguring, but also ironically invisible.

I'm practically the old me, getting ready to fall back into my old life. The next six months are going to be spent convincing my entire district that everything I did in the arena was part of one big, stupid act. My life will turn into a ridiculous lie, and… who knows. Maybe I'll even start believing myself. Maybe, with the Games far away and Katniss off in District Twelve… I'll turn back into the waste of space I used to be.

The thing is though, I don't think I will. Over the last few weeks... I became strong enough to start a rebellion without even _knowing about it... _and back in that arena, I didn't just have things to live for, but I also friends I was willing to _die_ for. I hadn't even known those parts of me existed before, but now that I've seen them, that I know they're there... I also know that I never, _ever _want to lose them, and that they've become so important to me that I don't know if I could if I tried.

So I suppose I'll have to keep fighting, like Cinna said. Sure, Snow may be kicking my ass now, and I've practically got my neck in a noose after all the shit I pulled in the arena, but it isn't like things have to stay this cruddy forever. I mean, there are rebels who have a snowman's chance in hell- which is still a chance- of actually taking Snow out, and if I'm optimistic, then that snowman's chance in hell will be just enough to keep me going until something good actually happens.

Hell, even looking at the smaller picture, I still have things I can be optimistic about. I'm going to see Katniss again in six months. I'll have a chance to make things right with my little sister in sixty minutes.

So there are good points in my life. Good points that I can't forget, because I'm pretty damn sure that things aren't going to get any easier from here on out. But maybe that's an okay thing. I mean, generally everything has to go to hell before life gets really good, and if I keep that in mind, well… maybe I'll be able to convince myself that all this shit I'm going through is worth it, that it's going to make everything better in the end.

"Marvel!" Tilly shrieks, knocking on my door three times fast. "We're almost there!"

I stand up and walk over to one of the windows in my room. We're just approaching the district's main city, and I can see a shit ton of people lining our path. I mean, hordes and hordes of them. They're all chanting something I can't understand, or maybe even several _different_ things, and at least half of them are holding signs that fly by way too fast for me to read.

Then the train is slowing down and the station starts coming into view.

For a second I worry over whether my reception is going to be good or bad. Then the train stops moving completely.

I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

**...**

**ANNOUNCEMENT: IF YOU READ NOTHING ELSE, PLEASE LOOK AT THIRD PARAGRAPH OF THE A/N!**

**A/N- **

**Gosh, sorry this took so long. I was having trouble coming up with enough to write for an actual chapter, and it's still kind of short. However, in case it isn't obvious, this is the last chapter of the story. So as of now, Genius and Insanity is a hundred percent complete! **

**As promised, there is going to be a sequel of an unknown name. Once I figure out a title, I'll stick it on here, or if you have me on Author Alert, it'll come up then, too. It may take a wee bit of extra time for me to get the new story up as opposed to a normal chapter because I actually have a Harry Potter fic that I've pushed off to the side for the last two months so I could finish this, so I'm going to churn out the last chapter and epilogue of that, but then I'll start in on the sequel of this right away.**

***PLEASE READ*: Okay, real quick, I have two questions about the sequel. First- Would a Gale/Marvel/Katniss love triangle be welcomed or frowned upon? Second- Does anyone have ideas for the sequel's title? Please reply in a review or PM me. I'm super interested in your opinions. **

**And lastly, thank you guys so much for all the support you've given me. Your reviews have been absolutely amazing, so thanks a million times over for all the inspiration. I really, really hope you'll all leave a final review for this entire story, even if you haven't said anything so far. Any ideas for the sequel, opinions about Genius and Insanity, or anything else you have to say will be much appreciated. I'll even fire out personal review replies to anyone who comments on this chapter, since I won't get any chances to do them all together. **

**...**

**Review replies (p.s. I also did get Ch.21s up a few days ago if you want to check those out), ****Thanks to-**

**lovelifegymnastics- **If he ever does get a chance to tell Katniss, it won't be for a while. Don't you just love the added drama?** mh21- **The main reason that Marvel didn't tell Haymitch anything is because he doesn't know him. For all Marvel knew, Haymitch would either tell Katniss right away, or go straight to Snow about how unhappy Marvel was with everything. To Marvel, Haymitch is still an old drunk with a soft spot for Katniss. And for your comment about how last chapter was almost as hard to read as some of the deaths, I had an easier time writing Rue's death than these last two... imagining how Katniss feels through all this is so hard, and I'm kind of scared for the sequel because things are going to take a Catching Fire-like turn and not get any easier. **tricksk8er- **Thanks. **Lilac Alyssa Halliwell- **Thanks for reviewing. I agree about how hard it'd be to just... laugh off everything that had happened. I'm not sure who was in the worse spot last chapter; Marvel or Katniss. **Wetstar- **Poor everyone pretty much summed last chapter up. I'm not sure if this chapter is really any better. Snow really does know how to screw with everyone's lives. **Guest- **No family meeting yet, but don't worry. Just make sure to tune in for the sequel, and I can guarantee that Katniss and Marvel will get to check out each other's districts. **Olive Monster- **No huge fights or romancey stuff yet, but I still have a sequel to write, and even though I can't guarantee anything yet (heck, I don't even have it all plotted out), I want to say that something like that's going to come up sometime. Or at least the part where Marvel pleads with Katniss... her forgiving him will be something else entirely, though. **irene- **Gosh, I can't even imagine how bad this had to be for Katniss; she doesn't trust anyone, and one of the few people she does seems to turn on her right away. Both of them are in kind of cruddy places. **Hahukum Konn- **Really, a lot of what Marvel has done has kind of mirrored Katniss's role in the book- he's been the really rebellious one, anyway- so I kind of just figured that he'd also be the one Snow would talk to, especially since he's the one with all the power to stop it. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you tune in for the sequel. **Even. The. Stars. Refuse. To. Shine.- **I can hardly believe Katniss is going to hate him either. For almost the entire story, I had all the scenes after the Games turning out sappy and romantic, but then came the sequel requests, and even though I hate writing stuff like that, it was kind of necessary given everything that's happened. Thanks for the review. **Guest- **I guess you kind of got what you wanted with the locket and everything. Not to her face, but I hope the 'I love you' that he wrote was a suitable substitute. **TheHungerGamesFan11- **Thanks for reviewing. **Sharpay Evans 11- **Thanks for the review. **brooke13243546- **Definitely still doing a Catching Fire replacement. I'm glad you liked the chapter, though, and I'll try to get the sequel up ASAP. **Tigers Like Red Blood- **Thanks. **lambtastic- **Yeah, Marvel's kind of forced to be tight-lipped about the whole thing, but I can see how you'd figure Katniss would be able to guess at what's going on. I haven't thought that much into it yet, but while she is rather thick about some things- she didn't understand what was wrong with her berry trick until Haymitch told her- she also does have a decent sixth sense in certain areas. Given that I have approximately two scenes in the sequel plotted out so far, I'm not entirely sure how that's all going to work out yet. **Nissy Padfoot- **Thanks for reviewing. **Even-the-Fire-is-Crying- **Ah, don't worry. Things will get better soon... maybe. Anyway, thank you for reviewing. **Wringrose- **Oh gosh, Marvel's mom. That's going to be one of the first scenes in the sequel, and I'm actually having fun thinking up ideas for that meeting. Anyway, if you like drama, I'm guessing you'll like the sequel quite a bit. I still don't know exactly what I'm going to do, but there definitely won't be any immediate, unbelievably easy forgiveness.

**Okay, that's everyone. Thank you all so, so much for the great reviews, again, and I'm really hoping that you'll stick with me for the sequel. **

**~bballgirl32~**


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